


Romance and deceit, the way to an Addams heart

by helloitshaley



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:36:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloitshaley/pseuds/helloitshaley
Summary: When a parent teacher conference ends up with a blind date for Uncle Fester, Morticia starts to question the motives of Wednesday's teacher. Was this really a match made in hell, or is she in this for the Addams fortune? And when things start to get out of hand, where will Fester's loyalties fall? To the family thats always had his back, or the first woman to turn in his direction? I kind of used a mix of the 1960's show as well as the movies, with a few musical references here and there. Picture the characters however makes you happy!
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams
Kudos: 29





	1. Gomez and Morticia brave public school

“Yuck, a school,” Gomez grimaced as he and his wife wandered arm in arm down the bustling elementary school hall. “Why do we allow our children to go to such a place?”  
“Because the law said we had to, dear,” Morticia replied flatly. “Remember that truant officer that came to our house?”  
“Ah, yes,” Gomez replied, pulling out a lit cigar from his pocket, oblivious to the fact that smoking wasn’t allowed anywhere near the school. “Demanding old chap. The children were learning everything they needed to know from us. And now look! We’ve been dragged to the very establishment ourselves! What nonsense.”  
“While I agree with you, darling, we can’t very well ignore the copious amounts of emails that Wednesday’s teacher has been sending us,” Morticia stated, looking at their surroundings with thinly veiled disgust.  
“She probably wants to discuss pushing Wednesday up a grade,” Gomez stated with confidence, which brought them to a halt outside of Miss Smith’s room. “Our daughter is quite brilliant, afterall.”  
“Darling, do you remember her first words?”  
“How could I forget? The entirety of Poe’s The Raven. How remarkable!”  
“But would it do her any good to be moved up to Pugsley’s class?” Morticia asked with concern. “Only one of them could be the top student, and I don’t want them competing at such a young age.”  
Gomez shrugged with indifference. “What's a little healthy competition between siblings?”   
Before Morticia could respond, the door, which was covered in unsightly yellow pencils and bright red apples, swung open. On the other side was a tired looking blonde woman in her early 40’s. She regarded the couple with apprehension before saying, “you must be the Addams.”   
“And you must be Miss Smith!” Gomez said excitedly. “Gomez Addams, this is my stunning wife, Morticia.”  
“Pleasure to meet you.”  
Miss Smith just nodded. “Yeah, figures. Please, come in. Have a seat.” She gestured to the small desks in the front row before taking a seat behind her much larger desk at the head of the class. “I thought recess would be a good time for us to have a little chat. Since this is the only time that seemed to work for the two of you.”  
Gomez and Morticia shared a puzzled look as they squeezed into their respective desks. “Recess?” Gomez eventually asked as he pulled out a new cigar.  
Miss Smith’s eyes widened in shock as Gomez started puffing away on his pre lit cigar. “Mr. Addams, you can’t smoke in here!” she eventually exclaimed once she overcame the initial shock.  
The couple shared another puzzled look before Gomez said, “and why ever not?”  
Miss Smith looked taken aback. “Be-because! It's bad for the children!”  
“Nonsense!” Gomez declared with a wave of his hand. “I’ve been smoking since I was five.”  
“Five?!?”  
He shrugged. “Mother insisted.”  
Miss Smith shook her head. “Please, put the cigar out.”  
“Very well,” Gomez sighed, stuffing the cigar in the breast pocket of his pinstripe blazer.  
“Back to this recess thing,” Morticia said softly. “What exactly is that?”  
“You’re… you’re joking,” Miss Smith said slowly. Their vacant, dark stares told her they weren’t. “It's the half hour of playtime the children have each day. You know, outside.”  
Morticia gasped, slapping her palm over her heart. “Play? Outside? In this weather?” She gestured toward the window where sunshine from the cloudless sky was streaming in. A butterfly even fluttered by, as if to accentuate her point.  
“Mrs. Addams, it's a lovely day outside,” Miss Smith said quietly, feeling so very confused.  
“Pardon us a moment,” Gomez said slowly before holding up his hand so he could privately talk to his wife. “Tish, this woman is a quack!” he whispered in what he assumed was a quiet tone.  
“I quite agree,” Morticia whispered back. “And not in a good way either.”  
“No wonder Wednesday always comes home so miserable. Just look at the state of this place!”  
Morticia suppressed a shudder. “That poster in the corner says ‘teamwork makes the dream work.’” She gagged. “I just can’t stomach it, Gomez.”  
His dark eyes sparked with mischief. “You are ravishing when you’re retching, querida!”  
“You both realize I can hear everything you’re saying,” Miss Smith said flatly.  
Gomez and Morticia turned to look at her, clear offences written on their faces. “An eavesdropper too,” Gomez muttered, shaking his head.  
“I wanted to speak with you both about Wednesday!” Miss Smith said, clearly annoyed.  
“Ah, yes,” Gomez said as he once again pulled out a cigar.  
“Mr. Addams!” Miss Smith all but screamed. “Put the cigar away!” She punctuated her statement by slamming her palms down on the desk.  
“Now really,” Morticia admonished with a shake of her head. “There is no need for violence against that desk. Now, as for Wednesday, we will need a few days to think over whether or not we would like her to advance a grade.”  
Miss Smith gawked at Morticia, absolutely dumbfounded. “Advance a grade? Who said anything about Wednesday advancing a grade?”  
“You did,” Morticia stated. “That is why you called this meeting.”  
“No!” Miss Smith screeched. “I wanted to speak with you both about the fact that Wednesday terrifies the other children!”  
There was a long pause before Gomez said, “frankly, Miss Smith, what's terrifying is not only the decor in here, but also the fact that someone has carved ‘I heart Niall’ into this desk. Not our Wednesday.”  
“Darling, that's appalling,” Morticia agreed with a glance at the desk. “Everyone knows that Harry is the best.”  
“No, no, what's terrifying is the fact that your daughter brought a black widow spider in for show and tell and then let it loose in the classroom!”  
“Ah, dear Socrates does love to play,” Morticia said fondly.  
“Just wait until next month. Mama has promised that she could bring in her alligator. That is, so long as Wednesday keeps up with her knife throwing,” Gomez said as he leaned back in the tiny desk chair.  
Miss Smith blinked at them a few times before shaking her head. “Wednesday also threatened to guilliteen another student.”   
“Ah, she gets that from her mother’s French side,” Gomez said with a suggestive wink.  
“Oui,” Morticia said with a sly glance at her husband.  
“Tish!” Gomez cried, nearly falling out of his chair. “That's French!”  
Gomez all but flung himself across the small space between them and grabbed Morticia’s arm. Before the poor teacher could properly process what was happening in front of her, Gomez had kissed his way up his wife’s arm. The couple had seemingly forgotten they were in a meeting because they were now kissing each other like two love starved fools who had been away from each other for months.  
“Mr. and Mrs. Addams!” Miss Smith finally cried once the animal noises started. “Excuse me!”  
“Oh, you’re excused,” Gomez muttered before attacking his wife’s lips once again.  
“Not what I meant!”  
“Darling… later…” Morticia said, narrowing her eyes suggestively.  
Gomez nodded in a daze. “Later.” He turned back to face Miss Smith’s horrified expression, wiping traces of red lipstick from his moustache. “Where were we?”  
“I’ll get to the point before the two of you either blow the place up or get arrested for indecent exposure!”  
“Why limit ourselves to just one?” Gomez pondered with a faint smile.  
“Either Wednesday needs to start behaving like a normal child or I will be forced to take this matter to the principal!” Miss Smith yelled before abruptly getting up and pulling down the US map behind her. “She burned Hawaii off my map!”  
“Dreadful place,” Gomez remarked.  
“Ew,” Morticia shuddered. “All that sunshine. And those awful flowers!”  
“Jesus Christ! No wonder Wednesday is such a… a… a kook!”  
Morticia glared at the defeated teacher before holding up her hand. “One moment, Miss Smith.” She turned to Gomez, who joined her in their not so private private meeting. “Darling, I’m beginning to think this isn’t about Wednesday at all.”  
“Oh?”  
“It seems to me that Miss Smith is tightly wound and practically begging for affection. She needs an outlet… if you understand my meaning.”  
“Ah, yes, I understand that meaning quite well,” Gomez said, his eyebrows bouncing.  
Morticia lowered her hand for a moment. “Miss Smith, do you prefer men, women, or somewhere in between?”  
“Of all the inappropriate-”  
“It's obviously men, cara. Look at her shoes.”  
“Ah, yes, good eye, darling. Miss Smith, we would like to set you up with our Fester.”  
“Fester?” she gasped in shock.  
“Yes, my uncle,” Morticia said simply.  
“Wait, querida, your uncle?” Gomez asked.  
“Yes.”  
“I thought he was my brother.”  
“No, darling, I believe he was my uncle first. My mother’s brother,” Morticia explained.  
“Really?” Gomez scratched his head. “But don’t you remember the whole business with the Bermuda Triangle?”  
“Oh, yes,” Morticia considered this for a moment. “But then how did he give me an ivory dagger for my 8th birthday?”  
“Fair point. Very well, for this we’ll say that he’s your uncle.”  
“Very well, dinner at 8 tonight. We’ll make it a double date so things are less awkward. Uncle Fester is prone to getting flustered around women,” Morticia said to Miss Smith.  
“I don’t… I don’t believe this,” Miss Smith whispered, rubbing her temples. “I cannot even begin to describe to the two of you how inappropriate this meeting has been! Furthermore-”  
“Ah, I thought I caught wind that the Addams were here!” Mr. Walker, the principal, said happily as he poked his head into the classroom. “I trust this meeting is going well.”  
“Actually, Mr. Walker-” Miss Smith began, but was cut off.  
“Because with such big donors to the school, I expect nothing but the best.” The tone of his voice suggested ‘keep these people happy or else.’ His glare also suggested the same thing.  
“Speaking of donations!” Gomez interjected, “we noticed a horrible lack of quicksand pools around here. How much would it take to make one of those happen?” Gomez had his checkbook out and was writing down a figure before Mr. Walker could even respond.  
“Does it… does it have to be quicksand? Could it just be a regular swimming pool?” the man asked.  
“Well, I suppose. If you fill it with piranha, of course.”  
“Yes, erhm, whatever you say, Mr. Addams.”  
“Capital!” He ripped out the check and handed it over. “This should about cover it.”  
The principal’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Yes, yes I think this will do.” He turned to the befuddled teacher. “Happy, Miss Smith.”  
“Well then,” Morticia said once Mr. Walker was gone. “Where were we?”  
“Dinner,” Miss Smith said, her eyes all but glued to Gomez’s check book. “At 8.”  
“Right! We’ll send along the address of the place later. You’re going to love this restaurant, it's in a cave!” Gomez said, and excited glean in his dark eyes. “Come my dear, we should go before this recess nonsense ends.”  
“Yes, the children are bound to be terribly unhappy after that,” Morticia said with a frown. “I don’t want to be caught in the middle of the tirade that is sure to follow.”  
Miss Smith watched in abject horror as the couple made their way arm in arm out of the classroom. “What the hell just happened?”


	2. Fester's First Date

“No! I won’t do it, I won’t!” Fester said indignantly, crossing his arms tightly like a child.  
“Uncle Fester,” Morticia said sternly, staring him down. “This is for your own good as well as that unfortunate woman's.”  
“Besides, when was the last time you went on a date?” Gomez asked from his headstand across the room.  
“February 31st of last year!”  
“That isn’t a real date, Uncle Fester,” Morticia pointed out.  
“Funny, that's the exact thing she said,” Fester said quietly.  
“Fester, this woman needs you!” Gomez exclaimed, jumping out of his headstand and running over to him. “She needs the touch of an Addams man!”  
“Ew.”  
“Really, you would be doing the poor woman a favor,” Morticia said. “Think of it as a bit of charity.”  
“Does she even have any rotting teeth?” Fester grumbled.  
“No, but I’m sure that's something you could fix, old man,” Gomez said as he slapped Fester on the back.  
Fester frowned, still not eager to comply. “Does she at least have a bald spot?”  
“It's a free dinner, Uncle Fester,” Morticia pointed out.  
“Alright fine, I’ll do it! But I”m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu!”  
“By all means!” Gomez exclaimed. “It's only money.”  
“I just hope she wears something presentable tonight,” Morticia commented, leaning back in her chair. “Because that floral monstrosity from today was far too ghastly to comprehend.”  
“We can’t all be as ravishing as you, cara mia,” Gomez said with a wink.  
“Why thank you, darling.”  
…   
Eight o’clock rolled around rather quickly, and while the Addamses were always perfectly punctual, it would seem that Miss Smith was intending on setting the night off to a not so great start.  
“I’ve been stood up!” Fester lamented into his plate.  
“I’m sure she’s just running behind,” Morticia said reassuringly. “Miss Smith is in no position to be standing anyone up.”  
“Perhaps she was caught in a horrendous, six car pileup!” Gomez said hopefully.  
“Or struck by lightning,” Morticia added.  
“Or maybe she’s just a bitch!” Fester exclaimed.  
“Now, Uncle Fester, you know how I feel about crude language!” Morticia warned.  
“Only in the bedroom,” Gomez said with a smirk.  
“Is that the only thing the two of you think about?” Fester cried in exasperation.  
“Of course not,” Morticia said with a small laugh.  
At the same time, Gomez said, “Yes!”  
Fester frowned at his drink. “I’ll never find love. I’ll never have what the two of you have! Which may be a good thing because I tire very easily and have a bad back.”  
“Hours ago it seemed as if you didn’t even want this date!” Gomez laughed. “Aren’t you relieved?”  
“I’m sorry I’m late,” came Miss Smith’s voice before Fester could respond. “Traffic was a nightmare and this wasn’t the easiest place to find.”  
Fester gave her a once over before leaning over to whisper to Gomez. “I take it back. I was relieved.”  
“We’re so happy you could make it,” Morticia said sweetly. “This is Fester.”  
There was a very awkward pause as they just stared at each other. Eventually, Gomez had to elbow Fester. “Fester, say hi,” he hissed descreetly.   
“Hi,” he said before hiding his face behind his glass.  
“You’ll forgive him,” Morticia said as she kicked Fester under the table. “He’s shy.”  
“It's no problem,” Miss Smith said nervously. “Shy is just fine.” She fluffed out her bright pink dress and took the empty seat beside Fester.  
“We ordered appetizers!” Gomez all but shouted to fill the silence. “I hope that's alright with you, Miss Smith.”  
“Just fine,” she said flatly. “And I suppose, given the circumstances, you can call me Candy.”  
“Candy?” Fester blurted. “Your name is Candy and you don’t have a single rotting tooth?”“Fester, rotting teeth aren’t everything,” Gomez said, pulling a cigar from his pocket. Unlike the school, the restaurant didn’t care if he smoked. “Look at Morticia! Not a single rotten tooth, but I love her more than words can express.”  
“Yeah, but Morticia can bite through a lead pipe!” Fester cried, turning in his seat to face Candy. “Can you do that?”  
“N… no…” she looked at Morticia with uncertainty tinged with fear. “You can?”  
Morticia shrugged modestly. “Yes, well, it isn’t a competition.”  
“You can bite through a lead pipe?!?” Candy repeated, nearly reaching hysterics.  
“That's not all those teeth can do,” Gomez said with a smirk and suggestive wink, reaching for Morticia’s hand.  
“Stop!” Fester yelled, slapping his hands over his ears. “Candy, it's best to just cover your eyes and ears until they’re done.”  
“Uncle Fester, really,” Morticia said with a shake of her head. “You’ll give Wednesday’s teacher the wrong impression.” All the while Morticia’s hand was dangerously high on Gomez’s thigh, but what Candy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.  
“Wednesday, yes, can we talk about Wednesday?” Candy asked in desperation. “I mean, I thought I had seen it all with that Munster boy last year-”  
“Eddie? Oh, we just adore him,” Morticia said fondly.  
“You do?” Candy cried. “Of course you do!”  
“Oh, yeah, the Munsters are some of our best friends,” Gomez said casually. “Eddie is always over for playdates. When he and Pugsley get into the explosives, watch out!”  
“Where is the waiter?” Candy looked around, ready to wave her napkin for his attention. “I need a drink.”  
“Gomez,” Morticia said, her voice suddenly serious as she eyed Candy. Something struck her out of nowhere, and she found herself needing to speak with her husband immediately. “I think a lace on the back of my dress broke. Will you come help me fix it?”  
Gomez’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he jumped from his chair, sending it to the floor with a loud clatter. “Whatever you say, cara mia.”  
“You’ll excuse us,” Morticia said politely, standing in a far more graceful manner than her husband. “We’ll only be a moment.”  
They left the table, leaving the two remaining in a very awkward and uncomfortable silence. But at least the waiter had been by to see to everyone’s alcohol needs.  
The second the couple rounded the dimly lit corner to the bathrooms, Gomez kicked down the door to the women’s restroom and started yanking off his jacket simultaneously. “There will be more than just one lace broken when I’m through with you!” he exclaimed while kissing her arm and pulling her into the bathroom.  
“Darling, while this is very tempting, it isn’t why I wanted to speak with you in here,” she said with a laugh, attempting to push her ravenous husband away.  
“What could be more important?” he asked into her neck.  
“The wellbeing of our children, perhaps.”  
“Oh, that.” He let out a deep breath and quickly composed himself. “What about it?”  
“Well, I never realized that Eddie Munster had Miss Smith last year, but now that she’s mentioned it, I remember Lily telling me something strange,” Morticia began, a worried expression on her face.  
“Oh, I love something strange.”  
“Yes, but not strange in a good way, I’m afraid,” Morticia sighed. “There was a period of time where Lily was so upset because Eddie kept getting in trouble in class. And you know Eddie, he’s such a sweet boy.”  
Gomez nodded in consideration. “Yes, that does seem rather unusual. You don’t suppose Miss Smith likes to single out certain kids, do you?”  
Morticia shrugged, fighting against the sudden lump in her throat. She was so happy go lucky an hour ago, but now Morticia was beginning to grow suspicious of the situation they found themselves in. “Gomez…”  
“Yes, querida? Tell me anything.” He grabbed her shoulders, flashing her a reassuring smile.  
“Well, you can’t deny that people like Miss Smith tend to look at our family a certain way,” she said quietly, hating admitting it out loud. It went against every fiber of her being, but where her kids were concerned, that didn’t much matter.   
“Hogwash!” Gomez cried, throwing his hands up. “We are the picture of normality!”  
“Yes, but everyone has their own definition of normal. I mean, after all, what's normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.”  
Gomez looked at his wife, concern spreading across his face. He pushed a strand of raven hair behind her ear, taking time to caress her cheek in the process. “Cara mia, you truly look upset.”  
“She tried to have Eddie expelled, you know. What if we were wrong and her issues go deeper than just needing a romantic partner? I don’t want to send Wednesday to a school where she is treated unfairly. I don’t see why we couldn’t just keep homeschooling her! Then there's this whole mess that we’ve gotten Fester in.”  
“Why don’t we just ask her then?” Gomez said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
“Ask the woman if she is either biased against our daughter for some odd reason, or if she is just ‘hard up?’” Morticia asked incredulously before taking a moment to consider it. “Alright, let's ask her then.”  
“Is there a rush?” Gomez asked, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Why waste a perfectly good bathroom?”  
“Later, darling. We have plenty of bathrooms at home.”  
“You evil temptress,” Gomez hissed as he ruefully opened the door. He retrieved his jacket from the floor and pulled it back on as Morticia smoothed down his hair.  
“Flattery will get you nowhere, darling.” Morticia shot him a sultry wink before leading him back through the clamor of the restaurant.  
Upon returning to the table, they found the scene as awkward as when they left. Only now it appeared that Miss Smith was a bit tipsy and Fester had gravy on his face.  
“Candy!” Gomez said abruptly, startling the woman as well as the table beside them. “My wife has a question to ask you!”  
Morticia’s eyes widened in shock. “I never thought I would see the day when my husband throws me under the bus! And there isn’t even a real bus to make it more enjoyable!”  
Gomez sheepishly shrunk down in his seat, sending Morticia an apologetic look. She narrowed her eyes at him before turning her attention to the tipsy teacher. “Miss Smith, I must be frank with you.”  
“Uh oh,” Fester muttered, finally noticing the gravy on his face, which he attempted to lick off.  
“Do you dislike our child for some baseless reason or are you just very lonely and that is causing pent up aggression which you then are taking out on our daughter?” Morticia asked calmly, which made the accusation all the more intimidating.  
There was a long stretch of silence as everyone at the table glared at one another. Then, finally, Candy started sobbing, which caught the three Addams completely off guard. They all shared a look as Candy dabbed at her face with her wine stained napkin.   
“Oh, alright!” she finally sobbed. “Alright! Your daughter scares me! The three of you scare me! Your daughter shot an arrow at my head the other day!”  
“That just means she likes you,” Fester said happily.  
“I also hate the fact that even though she is a little menace, Wednesday might be the most compassionate child in the class! It doesn’t make any sense, she doesn’t fit that mould! Then the two of you walk in and you can’t keep your freaking hands to yourselves for a full minute! Why? Why can a couple of kooks have this wonderful marriage with these strange yet brilliant children and I can’t even get a match on eharmony? How is that fair? You tell me how! Why do you… you freaks have what appears to be a perfect life while us normal people are suffering alone?”  
The entire restaurant had gone deadly silent by the time Candy Smith had finished her tirade of insults and self deprecation. Her face was now beet red as she realized all the things she said out loud to a very captive audience.  
“I see,” Morticia eventually said, still as calm as ever. On the outside. She turned to look at Gomez. “It would seem that both our assumptions were correct. How very freaky.”  
“Mrs. Addams-” Candy stammered, clearly regretting making her true, drunken feelings known.   
“I think we heard enough,” Gomez cut her off. “Haven’t we?”  
“Uncle Fester, what do you have to say?” Morticia asked, her intense gaze still fixed on Candy.  
“Of all the character flaws I was hoping for, insecurity wasn’t one of them,” he said, crossing his arms in a huff.  
“Gomez, I’m tired.” Morticia stood, the scrape of her chair echoing through the still silent cavern. “Let's go home.”  
“Um, me too?” Fester asked, looking between the couple and the main course that had just arrived in the midst of the altercation.  
“Stay or go, Fester,” Gomez said with a sympathetic smile. “The choice is yours.”  
A strange look spread across Fester’s face, and it wasn’t only because now he could also have Gomez and Mortica’s food along with his own. “I think I might stay.”  
Candy looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. “Why on earth would you want to stay?”  
“I have my reasons,” he said cryptically. “You can leave if you want to.”  
Morticia and Gomez watched apprehensively as Candy tried to make up her mind. Eventually, her posture relaxed as she shrunk down in the chair. “I guess I’m staying. I’m too drunk to drive anyway.”  
Morticia slowly shook her head and made her way toward the door without another word. Gomez quickly followed behind after slapping down a couple hundred dollars to cover the evening. He did promise him a free dinner, after all.   
Candy’s eyes zeroed in on the money, a tiny smile on her face. “Yes, I’m staying.”


	3. Morticia's Secret

By the time they returned home, the children were in bed and Mama was up in the attic, probably smoking weed. Mortica hardly said two words on the way home, and it had Gomez deeply unsettled. And not in a good way.  
“Querida, please!” he begged, dramatically falling to his knees in the middle of their bedroom. “Speak, groan, growl, screech! Make any sort of sign that you haven’t gone mute! I couldn’t live a single day without the melodious sound of your voice!”  
Morticia sighed, looking up in the vanity mirror she was sitting in front of, calmly running a brush through her silky hair. “I haven’t gone mute, darling.” She continued brushing, apparently set on not saying anything else.  
Still on his knees, Gomez crossed the room and threw his arms around his wife. “Please tell me you aren’t this upset by the drunken ramblings of a sad, lonely, terribly dressed woman.”  
Morticia set down her hair brush and sighed deeply as she contemplated her next words. “It isn’t only about Candy Smith. Dreadful name, by the way. It was all I could do to keep from cringing when I heard it.”  
“I thought she was joking,” Gomez said as he stood. “But what else is troubling you?”  
“I’m being silly,” she said with a dismissive shake of her head.  
“You? Never!” Gomez cried. “I’d only think you were silly if you did something crazy. Like dye your hair blonde or buy a pink dress.”  
Morticia’s ruby lips tilted up in some semblance of a smile. “They do say blondes have more fun.”  
“Yes, but no blonde is married to Gomez Addams!” he declared.   
“I should certainly hope not.”  
“Tish,” he said softly, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Talk to me, I beg of you. I cannot stand to see such a wobegon expression on your beautiful face!”  
After another long pause, Morticia finally spoke. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. Our children, however… I know Wednesday and Pugsley can handle themselves against other children. But when it's their teachers and even other parents, what are they supposed to do? And I know they’re very much like you and I and these things just seem to roll off their backs, but as a mother I can’t help but worry and become overly protective. They both have such wonderful spirit and I would be crushed to one day see it broken…” she trailed off, looking forlornly down at her hands.  
“Morticia,” Gomez sighed, spinning her around to face him. “Cara mia, I understand. I see and hear the same things you do. But we are Addams! Nothing can break us! Torture us, torment us, and we ask for more!”  
“Gomez, there is something I have to tell you,” Morticia said in a rush, her eyes downcast.  
Gomez stopped the frantic pacing he was in the middle of and looked back at his wife once again. “Anything.”   
She stood, suddenly overwhelmed with nerves like never before. “What I have to say isn’t pleasant. In fact, it reflects rather poorly on me, which is why I have kept it a secret from everyone. Even you, my darling husband.”  
“Tell me anything, querida, I assure you I can handle it,” Gomez insisted, tightly gripping Morticia’s shoulders. “Tish, have you killed someone?”  
“I only wish it was something as simple as that,” she said glumly. “What I’m about to admit to is far more horrifying than anything you could dream up.”  
An intrigued smile spread across his face. “You’re scaring me. Please, continue.”  
Morticia took a deep breath. “I only hope you won’t think any differently of me once I tell you.”  
“Never! You are my life! My only love! The single bat in the cave that is my heart!” Gomez cried, clasping Morticia’s hands tightly to his chest.  
“My sophomore year of highschool, I got so tired of being teased by every single person, teacher and student, that I joined the cheer squad!” Morticia blurted before she could back out.  
Gomez’s eyes widened to the point where Morticia feared they would fall out. It has happened before, afterall. He said nothing, a rarity for him, which made Morticia all the more concerned. Her stomach was completely twisted in knots in the worst way possible.  
“Gomez, please!” she pleaded. “I only told you because I want to keep our children from going down the same path. Say something, please!”  
“My wife,” he eventually muttered, dropping her hands to run his fingers through his hair. “My wife, a cheerleader.”  
Morticia from and sunk down to the hard edge of the bed. “I was desperate. You can tell yourself over and over that words don’t bother you, but they do. And when I was a cheerleader, people liked me. My sister actually acknowledged my presence for once. But while everyone else finally liked me, I never hated myself more. That is, until this moment right now.”  
“Mortica,” Gomez said softly, kneeling down in front of her. “Cara, while I’m shocked, it doesn’t change my opinion of you.”  
“It doesn’t?”  
“Of course not! You are still the woman that I love, nothing will change that.” He took her hand and gently kissed her knuckles. “And I see your point. We will keep a much closer eye on how our children are being treated, then do what we must when the time comes to protect them and make sure they stay true to themselves.”  
“Thank you, Gomez,” she whispered, fondly stroking his cheek. “How did I get so lucky?”  
“Someone down there must be looking out for me.” He kissed her wrist. “For it is I who is the lucky one!” He slowly kissed his way up her arm, taking his time to truly enjoy the moment. “Tish?” he murmured against her sharp jaw.  
“Yes?”  
“Did you have… pom poms?” he whispered, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.  
“Gomez!” she warned, leaning back to glare at him. “Do not tease me! It is embarrassing enough as it is!”  
“I am simply a curious man!” he exclaimed in an attempt to defend himself. “I was not teasing you, my dear.”  
She narrowed her eyes, a small hint of a smirk dancing across her face. “Yes, well, I really am tired. Goodnight, Gomez.”  
“Querida!” he cried in anguish as she slid under the sheets. “Do not punish me for a simple question!” He crawled across the stiff mattress as he tried to force a remorseful look on his face. “I will never utter the word pom poms again in my life!”  
After a long stretch of silence, she said, “promise?”  
“I swear on my mother’s grave!”  
“Your mother is up in the attic.”  
There was a beat of silence. “I thought she was your mother?”  
Morticia’s eyes flared. “Not this again.”  
“Regardless!” Gomez said quickly. “I promise.”  
“Very well then.” Morticia finally smiled properly. “I’m not tired anyway.”

...  
Hours later Morticia woke up to the sound of the front door banging open, followed by cackling laughter echoing through the house and up the stairs. “Gomez,” she hissed, nudging the man that was sound asleep with half his body on top of her. “Gomez, wake up! I think there's an intruder.”  
He popped his head up, his dark hair sticking up wildly in all directions. “An intruder? How fun!”  
He leapt out of bed and grabbed a rapier off the wall from over the fireplace. He swung it around a few times, narrowly missing Morticia as she pulled on her robe. “Grab a sword!” he said in an excited whisper. “We will skewer them together!”  
“Yes, but you might want to first put on a pair of pants,” Morticia pointed out, clearly amused by her husband’s enthusiasm.  
“What?” Gomez looked down, realizing for the first time that he was in no state to fight anyone. “Oh yes, pants! And perhaps a shirt. I would hate to lose yet another nipple.”   
He threw his sword to Morticia with little warning, but luckily her reflexes were surpurbe after years of being married to Gomez. Quickly, he pulled on a pair of sleep pants and his smoking jacket before excitedly springing to the door. “Come, my dear!” he whispered. “We will make them regret the day they were ever born!”  
A loud crash echoed through the house, followed by a round of giggles. Gomez and Morticia paused at the top of the stairs, sharing a confused look as more giggles were heard. They crept along, following the rambunctious sounds of whoever had the gall to try and rob them.  
“These are some of the worst intruders I’ve ever encountered,” Gomez whispered with a frown. “I don’t think they’re going to make this very fun.”  
“Darling, every home invasion is fun with you,” Morticia said, stroking his cheek softly, getting caught up in the thrill of the hunt momentarially.  
“Cara, you know what you do when you stroke my cheek!” he said before swiftly grabbing her hand and kissing it.  
“Gomez, intruders now, cheek stroking later.”  
“Ah, yes, where were we?” There was a loud bang that sounded like it came from the kitchen. “Right!”  
As they made their way toward the source of the commotion, their confusion only grew more. From the other side of the kitchen door, they could hear the distinct sound of flirtatious giggling followed by the obnoxious clanging of pots and pans.  
“On the count of three!” Gomez whispered, his hand on the door knob. “One, two, three!”  
He threw open the door and sprung into the kitchen, waving his sword around with a flourish. “Drop everything, you scoundrels! Or I’ll-”  
“Gomez, it's me!” Fester cried, throwing up his hands, which were covered in sticky newt icing for the cookies Mama was planning on making.  
Morticia walked into the kitchen far more calmly than her husband. She quickly surveyed the scene, finding to her shock that Fester was not alone. She set her sword down on the table and cooly crossed her arms, subtly glaring daggers at his guest.  
“Good heavens, old man!” Gomez yelled. “I nearly shish kabobed you! And… Miss Smith?”  
The clearly intoxicated teacher was half hiding behind Mama’s cauldron, a piece of string cheese dangling from her mouth. She looked between Gomez and Morticia, obviously unsure of the proper etiquette in this situation.  
“Um… Fester invited me back,” she said as a way of explanation. “I’m sorry we woke you up.”  
“Not at all,” Morticia said tensley. “Why don’t I make tea?” She walked over to the stove and cranked up a large flame while Gomez joined Fester by the fridge.  
“So, you and Candy really hit it off after we left,” Gomez said with a smirk, pulling out a cigar.  
Fester shrugged and started wiping the icing from his hands. “Well, I started by telling her off. Sort of. More like I quietly explained why she was wrong about us while she pounded down long island iced teas. Then she started crying again because she said she never wanted to upset us, only that she is so lonely and her jealousy slipped out. One thing lead to another and here we are.”  
“Drunkenly giggling in my kitchen,” Gomez finished. “And what was your plan after rading our fridge?”  
Fester’s eyes went wide. “After?”  
“Fester, you don’t bring a woman home in the middle of the night for a snack and then send her on her way!”  
“You don’t?”  
“Fester, she came home with you. She clearly is expecting something beyond string cheese!” Gomez exclaimed in as much of a hushed voice as he could manage.  
“I guess a part of me knew that,” Fester said quietly. “And part of me would very much want to… there's just one problem.”  
“And what is that?” Gomez asked. “Other than her appearance and smell.”  
“I’m a virgin.”  
Gomez bit his cigar clean in half out of pure shock, sending bits of ash flying up in a cloud around them. “How is that possible?”  
“Because not everyone is you, Gomez! Look at me, I’m bald and awkward.”  
“You’re a handsome devil if I’ve ever seen one! But this does change things. I can have Lurch throw her out.”  
“No! What if I want to? And I do! I’m ready, it's time!” Fester insisted.  
“But with her? You can do much better, old man, much better.”  
“That's nice of you to say, Gomez, but I don’t think it's true. I’m ready and it's going to happen! With our without her!”  
Gomez shook his head. “In that case, good luck to you.” Gomez reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad. “I’m going to jot down a few pointers, just in case.”

Across the room, Candy stumbled over to the stove where Morticia was standing, her back as rigid as a corpse as she watched the black kettle, waiting for it to boil. “Look, Mrs. Addams, I really do think I need to apologize for what I said at dinner.”  
“No need,” Morticia said flatly, turning to face her. “And call me Morticia. It only seems appropriate, given the circumstances.”  
“Well listen, Tishy. Can I call you Tishy?”  
“Absolutely no-”  
“Anyway, Tishy, Fester has made me see the error of my ways! You are a lovely, albeit very strange people,” Candy said with what Morticia could only assume was a phoney smile.  
Morticia glared at her, feeling rather venomous at the moment. “And you’re not just going to sleep with Fester because Mr. Walker told you to, quote, keep us happy?”  
Candy’s face pulled into a strange grimace and Morticia noticed how smeared her horrible pink lipstick was. “No, no, nothing like that.” Candy’s unfocused eyes then trailed down over Morticia, which only served to make her blood boil further. “Tishy, is this really what you look like in the middle of the night?”  
Morticia glanced down at her black silk robe and consciously smoothed her hand over her hair. She raised a shapely eyebrow and gestured to Candy’s appearance instead of drawing more attention to her own. “Is this really what you look like, Candy?”  
Candy started to laugh, not understanding the subtle dig that was aimed at her. Behind Morticia the kettle started to let out an ear splitting whistle, giving her a blissful release from the horrible conversation.  
“I mean, you’ve had two kids,” Candy continued as Morticia filled up four tea cups with the steaming liquid. “And you’re a stick! I’ve had none and, well…”  
“Yes, but I’m sure Fester finds you quite appealing,” Morticia said with a forced smile, handing over a tea cup.  
“You really think so?”  
Morticia fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, now you better go and talk to him. We wouldn’t want him thinking you’ve lost interest.”  
“No, no we wouldn’t!” Candy squeezed Morticia’s hand before rushing back to Fester.  
At the same time, Gomez wandered back over to Morticia’s side. “Do I have a bomb for you!” he said with a mix of excitement and amusement.  
“Oh really? Do tell,” Morticia said before taking a sip of her scalding hot tea.  
“Fester is a virgin!”  
Tea instantaneously shot out of Morticia’s nostrils from shock. Her eyes widened as she set her now undrinkable cup of tea to the side, searching for something to clean her face off with. Gomez smirked with intrigue and handed her the handkerchief from his breast pocket.  
“I’m not going to lie to you, Morticia, I found that insanely attractive. Can you do that with other liquids?”  
“If you keep telling me shocking things while I’m drinking, I’m sure we’ll find out,” she said as she dabbed at her nose. “Gomez, are you sure you heard him right?”  
“Positive. We got that rogue lizard out of my ear a week ago, my hearing is completely back to normal. Anyway, Fester says that he is determined to, let's say, allow Candy to de-thorn him tonight.” Gomez wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.  
Morticia shuddered. “Did you try to talk him out of it?”  
“The man is set in his ways, Tish. He’s… how old is he?”  
“He’s your brother.”  
“I thought we agreed that he was your uncle!”  
“Oh, right.” Morticia waved her hand dismissively. “Either way, I suppose you’re right. He’s a grown man, he can make his own decisions. No matter how wrong they may be.”  
“So vicious tonight, querida,” Gomez said with a grin, sliding his arm around her waist. “Why don’t we head back upstairs? Fester can’t have all the fun.”  
“Oh very well,” Morticia sighed, casting a glance over at where the other couple was now canoodling. “I would like to leave before they get up to more than just snuggling.”  
“Yes, I have no desire to watch Fester unwrap his piece of candy,” Gomez laughed, nudging Morticia with his elbow.  
“Of all the filthy things that have come out of your mouth,” Morticia slowly began, “that is by far the worst. I may make you sleep on the couch.”  
“Querida, you would punish me for such a clever joke?” Gomez said with a cackle as he steered them quietly to the door.  
Her dark eyes flashed once they were alone in the hallway. “I’ve punished you for far less, mon cher.”  
Gomez let out a low growl before grabbing Morticia’s arm, hell bent on kissing it with no end. That is, until a small, pigtailed eavesdropper appeared from out of the shadows.  
“Why is my teacher here?” Wednesday asked, her voice as flat as ever.  
“The real question is, why aren’t you in bed?” Morticia deflected, taking her daughter’s hand as Gomez took the other one.  
“Don’t change the subject, Mother,” Wednesday insisted. “Are we hunting Miss Smith for sport?”  
“What a marvelous idea,” Gomez whispered to himself.  
“I’m afraid not,” Morticia said, though she rather liked that idea as well. “Miss Smith is here with your Uncle Fester.”  
Wednesday turned her eye up to look sarcastically at her mom. “The only reason people come over in the middle of the night is for murder or sex. Which is it?”  
Gomez let out a loud laugh, patting Wednesday on the head. “She couldn’t make me more proud if she tried.”  
“I’ll tuck Wednesday back in,” Morticia said as they came to a halt in front of her door. “Darling, kick your father goodnight.”  
Wednesday delivered a swift kick to Gomez’s shin before ducking into her room.  
“I love you too!” he called before saying to Morticia, “don’t be too long.”  
She smirked. “Maybe I like making you wait every now and then.”  
Gomez let out a repressed sigh, shaking his head at his wife as he backed away down the hall.  
Morticia followed Wednesday into her room, making sure to shut the door behind her. She picked up one of the headless dolls from the floor and handed it to her as she snuggled under the stiff, black sheets.  
“On the topic of Miss Smith,” Morticia began gently, perching at the foot of Wednesday’s bed. “How do you feel about her?”  
“I think that she is a weak, feeble minded sheep who owns far too much pink and could stand to lay off the Krispy Kremes.”  
A soft smile crossed Morticia’s lips. “While I may agree with you, that isn’t quite what I meant. I want to know if Miss Smith is nice to you.”  
Wednesday blinked slowly. “Define nice.”  
Morticia sighed, feeling slightly defeated, looking down at her long red nails. “Does she treat you any differently than the other children in your class?”  
Wednesday thought for a moment then shrugged. “I guess it always seems that she likes the other kids projects more than mine. She also gets mad whenever I know more than her about something. Why do you want to know? Are you going to torture her?”  
“Not quite yet, my darling. Now, go to sleep. While Miss Smith may be too hungover to go to school tomorrow, you’re still going.”  
“Yes, Mother,” Wednesday said, crossing her arms over her chest and snuggling down against the hard mattress.  
“Goodnight, darling.” Morticia softly kissed her forehead. “Horrible dreams.”  
She left Wednesday’s room, feeling no surere in her feeling about Candy Smith than she did this morning. What was this woman’s angle in all of this? Morticia always tried to assume the best of people, but that had gone out the window with Candy’s outburst at dinner. She was no different than anyone else who had some unwarranted problem with her family. So why was she now so enamored with Fester? Morticia was smarter than to think her uncle swept this woman off her feet with his suave words. She found herself thinking that maybe Gomez shouldn’t have thrown down all that money before they left. What if that's what she was after in all of this?  
Still completely lost in thought, Morticia didn’t even notice the position her husband was in until the very empty king sized bed caught her eye. “I was worried you got lost,” Gomez remarked from his lounging position across the bear skin rug in front of the roaring fire. A cigar hung casually from his lips, a mysterious twinkle in his dark eyes. And he was of course, completely nude.  
Morticia couldn’t help what happened next. A laugh escaped her lips. She slapped her hand over her mouth, shocked by the involuntary outbursts. But then she laughed again and again like she had gone completely mad.  
Gomez sat up, looking cautiously at his wife. “Cara, I haven’t heard you laugh so much since we saw that man fall down the sewer. I hope you’re not laughing at me.”  
“No, my darling,” Morticia managed to say between fits of giggles. She walked over to the growling rug and took a seat beside her husband. “I think my brain has finally snapped.”  
Gomez looked at her with a puzzled expression as she lovingly stroked his cheek. Tears streamed down Morticia’s alabaster cheeks as her delicate shoulders shook. Gomez let out a nervous laugh of his own as he cupped Morticia’s cheek with his hand, brushing away the stream of tears.  
“I don’t want to have to send you to an asylum, Morticia,” he said. “I would miss you far too much. Though you would look ravishing in a straight jacket.”  
“Don’t send me away,” Morticia said once the laughter finally stopped. “I couldn’t bear to be apart from you. I’m fine, I just needed to have a minuscule mental breakdown, that's all.”  
“Well,” Gomez said casually, “that's that then.” He tossed his cigar into the fire before leaning in to kiss her.  
Morticia sighed, determined to finally relax. That is, until the creaking started. Which was followed by a few thuds on the ceiling, followed then by a wailing that didn’t come from any of the usual ghosts that wandered the halls.  
Gomez and Morticia broke apart, looking up at the ceiling, which was now sending down sprinkles of dust. “I’m going to go ahead and guess that that isn’t cousin Cackle having a late night dance party,” Gomez said thoughtfully, pulling out another cigar.  
Morticia did a double take as her husband started puffing away. “Darling… where did you pull that cigar from?”  
Gomez’s face tilted up in a self satisfied grin. “Wouldn’t you like to find out.”  
Morticia looked at him in bewilderment. “That is a mystery I would gladly solve if it wasn’t for the sound of my uncle…”  
“Fucking.”  
“Gomez!” Morticia cringed. “Could you not use such a classless word?”  
“What would you prefer, mi querida? You nearly vomit when I say ‘making love.’”  
“Because that term is repulsive.”  
“You always were so frank,” Gomez said with a laugh. “Shall we not call it anything and try to go to sleep?”  
“Try being the operative word,” Morticia said as a horrible squeal sounded above them.  
Gomez nodded proudly as he pulled Morticia to her feet. “It sounds like old Fester is a fast learner.”  
“Gomez, please,” Morticia groaned. “This is torture. And not the good kind.”  
“It's a good thing he just had the nails on his bed sharpened,” Gomez mused. “That makes for quite an enjoyable experience.”  
Morticia shot him a withering look as she slid into bed. “Does our electric chair still work?”  
“I think it just needs to be plugged in.”  
“Good. I would like to shock this day from my memory.”  
“Tomorrow then. The chair is in Pugsley’s room. We don’t want to wake him up.”  
“Quite right. Tomorrow it is.”


	4. The Girl Scout

Tomorrow proved to be no picnic in the cemetery for Morticia either. As she and Gomez neared the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, the sound of rackus laughter halted them dead in their tracks.  
“Don’t tell me she's still here,” Morticia said, grabbing Gomez’s pocket watch to check the time. She then lifted up his wrist to check the time on his watch. She quickly did the math in her head to figure out the exact time. “The children leave for the bus stop in 10 minutes, shouldn’t she already be at school?”  
“Darling, where is your Addams hospitality?” Gomez said jovial, putting his arm around his wife.  
Morticia frowned. “I suppose I’m being a little sensitive.”  
“And there is nothing wrong with that,” Gomez said softly, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I just don’t want you worrying yourself sick.”  
“So long as she doesn’t call me Tishy again.”  
“Would you prefer if she called you Morty?” Gomez said with a beaming smile.  
Morticia’s eyes flared angrily. “Keep it up and I’ll be strapping you to the rack.”  
“Oh, do you promise?”  
Morticia leaned in to whisper seductively in his ear. “I meant fully clothed, mon cher.”  
Gomez groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. “That's just cruel, Morticia!”  
She blew him a kiss before opening the door to the kitchen and walking into the madness inside. Fester and Candy were sitting at the table, feeding each other what appeared to be pancakes. Lurch was standing at the stove, confusion on his normally stoic face as he stirred a pot full of something green.  
Wednesday was sitting on the counter, taking aggressive bites out of her frog porridge and staring daggers at Candy. Pusgley, unbeknownst to Candy and Fester, was rigging an explosive under their table, looking rather proud of himself as he did so.  
“Tishy!” Candy happily exclaimed once she noticed Gomez and Morticia.  
Morticia’s hand twitched toward one of the large carving knives Lurch was using. Gomez noticed in the knick of time and grabbed her hand before she could cause a mess for poor Lurch all over the kitchen floor. Blood never came out easily and while it looked appealing, it got rather sticky underfoot.  
“Good morning, everyone!” Gomez said, breaking up some of the tension in the room. “How did everyone sleep?”  
Lurch groaned and shook his head.  
“Terrible,” Wednesday said, still glaring at her teacher.  
“I slept like the dead!” Pugsley said happily from under the table.  
“Pugsley, you have the wrong wires crossed,” Gomez said, gesturing to the dynamite under the table.  
“Not if you want the explosion to be silent!”  
“Why ever would you want a silent explosion?” Gomez asked, joining his son under the table just as Candy shot away.  
“You let your son explode things?” she cried in shock.  
“If they don’t learn it at home, where will they?” Morticia simply stated, taking a sip from the steaming cup of tea Lurch handed her. “But Pugsley, I’m afraid you’ll have to finish after school. You’re going to be late.”  
Pugsley groaned but abandoned his dynamite nonetheless. “But the whole point was to scare Miss Smith.”   
Morticia felt a small surge of pride. “I’m sorry to have ruined your surprise, but you both must head down to the bus stop.”  
“What's the point?” Wednesday asked. “My teacher won’t be there.”  
“Well, I suppose this is all terribly uncomfortable,” Candy said awkwardly, smoothing down last night’s dress. “I should be on my way.”  
“Yes, I think that's best,” Morticia said cooly.  
“But wait!” Fester called, nearly jumping over the table. “When will I see you again?”  
“In hell,” Wednesday said flatly. Morticia couldn’t find it in herself to even scold her.  
“Well, I was going to go to the mall after work. Perhaps you could join me?”  
Another lightbulb exploded in Morticia’s head. Surely she wasn’t the only one who saw how suspicious that was! She tried to look to Gomez for help, but he was too busy fiddling with Pugsley’s dynamite to notice.  
“I love the mall!” was Fester’s reply.  
Lurch groaned again.  
“Let's go, Pugsley,” Wednesday said, grabbing her brother’s arm.  
“Have a horrible day!” Gomez called from under the table.  
Morticia kissed them both before sending them off with Lurch. “Since when do you love the mall?” she asked once the children were gone. “You have worn the same thing since 1964.”  
“Morticia, have some respect for your brother in law.”  
“Fester, you’re my uncle!”  
“Since when?”  
“Since 1964!”  
“I’m going to head out,” Candy said, inching toward the door. “I’ll see you tonight, Fester.”  
“Toodle loo!”  
“I feel faint,” Morticia said, sliding into a chair just as the kitchen table exploded.  
“Ah ha!” Gomez cried, jumping up from a pile of smoke and splinters. “Too bad Pugsley missed that!”  
“Look, Morticia,” Fester continued. “I know Candy said some harsh things at dinner, but don’t you see? I’ve changed her mind!”  
There were millions of things Morticia wanted to say. However, she hated fighting before noon, so instead she said, “how can you be so sure?”  
“Last night, for example,” Fester said timidly, wringing his hands together.  
Gomez grinned, patting Fester on the back. “It sure sounded like quite the performance.”  
“Gomez, don’t encourage him,” Morticia hissed, digging her nails into his arm.  
“Tish, Fester is old enough to make his own mistakes.”  
“That's right!” there was a pause. “Hey!”  
“All I’m saying is, you rarely find your Morticia on the first try,” Gomez said sweetly, pulling his wife into an embrace.  
“Yeah, you have to date her sister first!” Fester cried indignantly before storming out of the kitchen.  
“Those are fighting words, brother!” Gomez yelled as he swiftly hurled a knife at the swinging kitchen door, missing Fester by a hair.  
“Leave it, Gomez,” Morticia said with a defeated sigh. “We won’t untether our family over this.”  
“Of course you’re right,” Gomez agreed, taking a seat in a half destroyed chair. “I just get very touchy when your sister is brought up!” he shuddered, visibly repulsed by the memory.  
“I think she would describe the topic as touchy as well,” Morticia said dryly. “But maybe not for the same reasons.”  
“I am not to be blamed for Ophelia’s lack of personal space!”  
Morticia fondly patted his cheek, happy that some of her husband’s Latin flare was able to distract her from her own inner turmoil. “No one is blaming you for anything, mon cher.”  
Gomez’s eyes went wide. “Tish, you know what you do when you pat my cheek like that! And French too!” he grabbed her hand and started kissing his way up her arm.  
“But what can we do about Fester and Candy?” she wondered out loud, shuddering as she said her name.  
Gomez said something, but it was muffled by Morticia’s arm.  
“I didn’t quite catch that, darling.”  
“I said, why don’t we just let it happen? I think Fester will, in time, realize that she isn’t right for him, he just has to sow his wild oats.”  
“I suppose you’re right, dear. He can have his fun, for now…”  
Morticia still despised the very throught. Deep down, she knew Candy wasn’t in this for the right reasons. Fester wasn’t that much of a smooth talker, there was no way he convinced Candy to change her whole judgemental tune over a few cocktails. However, Morticia was going to bite her tongue and let the chips fall where they may. But the second Wednesday even utters the words ‘school spirit’ without meaning an actual spirit haunting the school, Morticia would be slitting throats. Literally or figuratively, she hadn’t yet decided.  
“I’m going to go feed my plants,” she eventually said, moving gracefully through the table debris.  
“Very good, I think I'll have a go at the trains.” Gomez stood and pulled her into a kiss. “Come find me when you’re finished.”  
Morticia picked up a plate of hamburger and was on her way to the conservatory when voices coming from the front door stopped her in her tracks. Silently, she made her way toward them, keeping to the shadows so she wouldn’t be caught eavesdropping.  
“I’m telling you, he’s an idiot,” said a man, which Morticia recognized as Tully Alford, Gomez’s financial advisor.  
“More so than the other one?” that voice belonged to Candy, Morticia realized with an icy shock.  
“The difference is, one is an idiot with more money than you could ever dream of.”  
“Mr. Alford,” Morticia said, emerging from the shadows, giving them both a well deserved shock. “I’m sorry Lurch wasn’t here to greet you, he is with the children at the bus stop. “Is Mr. Addams expecting you?”  
Morticia’s eyes landed on Candy, who looked like she had been caught with her hand in the cockroach jar. “I’m late,” she said sheepishly before running out the front door.  
“Sorry, Mrs. Addams, your husband isn’t expecting me,” Tully said quickly. “I just thought I would stop by to tell him about a new investment opportunity.”  
Morticia glared at him for just long enough to keep him squirming. “Gomez is in his train room,” she finally said, just as Thing skittered down the hall. “Thing will take you.”  
Thing flashed a thumbs up before rushing to the staircase. Tully followed, nodding at Morticia with a guilty expression.  
Morticia exhaled slowly through her nose, clutching the crystal glass of raw meat tightly in her hands. “What's next?” she muttered helplessly to herself. “Is Pugsley going to come home with a puppy?”  
A small explosion rocked the house, which brought a small smile to her face. At least some things remained normal. But as she fed Cleopatra, Morticia couldn’t help but feel as though all of this nonsense was her fault. Afterall, she was the one who suggested Candy go to dinner with them and Fester. But that was before she knew how this woman felt about her family.  
Morticia thought she was doing something nice for an unfortunate and lonely woman. And what on earth could she have been talking to Tully about? ‘An idiot with lots of money,’ Tully had said. Surely he wouldn’t talk about Gomez that way. Sure the Alfords were a bit strange, but Morticia thought they all got along well regardless of all that.  
Cleopatra made a gurgling noise before spitting out the silver fork Morticia was feeding her with. Morticia shook her head, running her hand down the plant’s leaves. “I’m sorry, Cleopatra, I was a bit distracted.”  
The plant responded with kissing noises to show that all was forgiven.  
A few hours passed before Tully finally felt, looking exhausted and with a sleeve missing from his blazer, no doubt from losing a fencing match. Morticia made her way up to the study, desperate to no longer be alone with her thoughts.  
“Cara mia!” Gomez cried as Morticia walked through the door. “I thought he would never leave!” He cleared the space between them in a few strides and grabbed Morticia’s hand. “How I’ve missed you.”  
“I missed you too,” she said as Gomez kissed his way up her arm. “Mama is at the store, and Fester is still in a mood from this morning. And I caught Thing looking at pictures of feet on the internet so he has been avoiding me.”  
“I hope you don’t think I’ve been avoiding you,” Gomez said earnestly. “I just don’t want to bore you with all that financial mumbo jumbo. I prefer to tourture you in different ways.”  
“Of course,” she said with a sly smile. “I’m just happy we have a moment alone now. Completely alone.”  
“Querida, you temptress!” Gomez grabbed her hips and swung her around so her back was pressed to his large desk. “Morticia, sit on the desk. I wish to admire you!”  
Morticia raised her eyebrows in question but did as he said. “You? Not wanting to dive in head first?”  
Gomez chuckled as he looked at his with such adoration it would have melted the most frozen of hearts. “I have always known how very lucky I am to have you. But seeing what Fester has tied himself to, and hearing Tully rant on and on about how annoying his wife is has only made me realize how completely fortunate I am to have you, cara mia.”  
Morticia’s normally icy exterior cracked as an enormous smile broke out across her face. “It is me who is the lucky one, bubele.”  
“Tish, that nickname!” Gomez cried, crashing to his knees in front of her. “It goes right through me!” he grabbed the leg that was exposed by the deep slit in Morticia’s velvet dress and started to kiss up from her ankle at a rapid pace. He chuckled darkly to himself as he shoved the heavy velvet up to her waist. “I am a lucky, lucky man, Morticia,” he muttered against her inner thigh.   
Morticia smirked and leaned back against a stack of papers on the enormous desk. This was exactly the distraction she needed. Morticia only hoped that nothing strange would happen in the next hour or so to interrupt them.  
Then the front door banged open and slammed shut. Morticia stifled a groan and looked at the clock on the wall. “Darling, the children are home.”  
“Children?” came Gomez's muffled voice. “What children?”  
“Our children.”  
Gomez lifted his head with a deviant grin. “Madam, are you suggesting that we’ve been more than friends?”  
Morticia rolled her eyes. “Says the man who somehow managed to get my underwear around his neck.”  
“But darling, haven’t you heard?” he asked, helping her off the desk. “This is all the rage in Paris and I must insist you let me do this daily.”  
Morticia laughed softly as she unwound the black lace from Gomez’s neck. “I’m afraid we can’t have that. What would the children think?” she paused with her hand on the door knob. “Though it does give me an idea for later.”  
Gomez let out a desperate groan as he followed Morticia out of the study and down to the living room.  
“Mother, Father!” Pugsley yelled, rushing over to them. “Look at Wednesday!”  
Morticia’s eyes nearly fell out of her head upon seeing her daughter, sitting angrily in the middle of the floor, wearing a girl scout uniform. “Oh dear,” Mortica gasped, grabbing Gomez’s arm so she wouldn’t fall over. “My darling, what has happened to you?”  
“It's too horrible,” Gomez muttered, shaking his head.  
“Miss Smith said that either I join her sister’s girl scout troop or I was going to have detention for a month because I shaved Richie’s head at recess for picking on a new kid. I hate school so much that the thought of staying for an extra 2 hours every day made me suicidal,” Wednesday calmly explained. “So this was the alternative.”   
“I hardly see how that's fair,” Gomez muttered, pulling a lit cigar from his pocket.  
“And I’m sure this bully had it coming,” Morticia said as she pulled the beret off her daughter’s head, holding it out like it stunk of flowers.  
“He did.”  
“Perhaps Uncle Fester can make Miss Smith see reason,” Morticia said loudly as Fester scampered by the living room on his way to the front door.  
Fester scowled and stomped back to see what the fuss was about. “See reason about what?” he tentatively asked.  
“It would appear that Candy has forced Wednesday to… to…” Morticia couldn’t get the sentence out without gagging.  
“Join the girl scouts!” Gomez finished before Morticia vomited on the carpet.  
Fester’s eyes went wide as he noticed Wednesday's peculiar outfit. “Oh my, that is rather strange.”  
“Yes, it is,” Morticia said snippily.  
“I think it's hilarious!” Pugsley yelled from the corner where he was setting a trap for Cousin Itt.  
“Pugsley, come here,” Wednesday said calmly. “I want to try something.”  
“No thanks. Last time you tried something I was deaf for a week.”  
“And we all became fluent in sign language,” Wednesday shot back. “It was a learning experience.”  
“I’ll say something to her,” Fester promised as the children continued to bicker back and forth. “Wednesday in a uniform selling cookies? That isn’t right.”  
“Did you know they don’t even make the cookies from girl scouts?” Wednesday said, to everyone’s shock.  
“Despicable,” Gomez muttered, shaking his head.  
“Okay, okay, I’ll go have a word with Candy. Hopefully I’ll get to the mall before the hotdog people get rid of their old water. Nothing is better for my skin.” Fester grinned before waddling away to the front door.  
“I hope your brother isn’t in over his head,” Morticia said, sitting gracefully in her high back chair.  
“Your uncle, my dearest,” Gomez countered before flipping over to stand on his head.  
“I’ve changed my stance on that.”  
“I’m afraid that's not how families work.”  
“I thought he just showed up one day,” Pugsley added.  
“He spawned from an egg in the basement,” Wednesday said with confidence.  
“No,” Pugsley said thoughtfully. “That was grandmama.”  
“You’re thinking of cousin Crimp!” Gomez informed them. “He spawned from an egg in the basement.”  
“Oh.”  
“I’m going to blow this uniform up,” Wednesday said, getting to her feet. “Come on, Pugsley.”  
“Oh, yay, explosions!”  
The children ran off, leaving Gomez and Morticia alone once again, which always led to trouble. “Let's follow them,” Gomez said, still standing on his head.  
“The children? No need, they’re wonderful with explosives.”  
“I meant Fester and Candy!” Gomez said as he rolled out of the headstand and over to Morticia’s feet. “At the mall.”  
“But darling, what would that accomplish?” Morticia asked. “Other than a stomach ache.”  
Gomez shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I thought it would be sexy to dress in disguise.”  
Morticia considered this for a moment. “That is a fair point. But I don’t know if we should. Mama is still out, there is no one to watch the children.”  
“Lurch can watch them!”  
“But darling, Lurch is such a pushover.”  
“Querida! You have been so tense today! Why not go have a little fun?” Gomez pleaded, running his hands up her thighs in a very tempting manor. “Por favor?”  
“Gomez… oh fine! We can spy on them!” It was a rather tempting idea, Mortica had to admit. She knew Candy was not to be trusted, only now she needed proof! And this may be the perfect way to get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry if anyone is expecting smut, as much as I want to write it, I can't seem to figure out how lol


	5. Espionage and Fraud

“Darling, these don’t feel quite like disguises,” Morticia said, tugging at the short hem of the purple dress she dug out of the back of her closet.  
“It's not what we would normally wear,” Gomez pointed out. “I think it counts.”  
Morticia stifled a laugh as she looked at her husband. “In all the years we’ve known each other, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear jeans.”  
“They’re like torture devices!” Gomez exclaimed, tugging awkwardly at his hips. “I should wear them more often.”  
“I feel so abnormal,” Morticia lamented, crossing her arms as they walked through the throngs of people.  
“I am a bit jealous that everyone else is seeing so much of you,” Gomez said, winding his arm around her waist.  
“You needn't be jealous of anyone,” Morticia assured him. “I’ve been yours since the day you carved my initials in your leg.”  
“Cara,” Gomez hissed, stopping short to kiss her arm.  
“Darling, espionage first.”  
“Right, right.” He looked around, trying to spot the couple they were looking for. “Reprehensible!” Gomez suddenly cried, startling a group of teens wandering by.  
“What is, dear?” Morticia asked, fiddling with the end of her long braid that felt so foregin in her normally straight hair.  
“Naming a store Pink!” he shouted.  
“Oh yes, I quite agree. This is why I hate the mall. Fester does too, you know. I hate how Candy is trying to make different people out of our whole family.” She shook her head. “I can only hope she isn’t trying to turn Fester into a completely different person.”  
“You women don’t quite realize the power you have over us,” Gomez said, his mouth turning upward in a smirk. “Querida, if you told me to dress only in pastels, I would.”  
A chill ran up Morticia’s spine. “Never in a million years.”  
“I don’t know, I think I would look dapper in a buttery yellow.”  
“I feel as though that would only be a ploy to get me to burn all your clothes,” Morticia said, raising an eyebrow.  
“You’ve caught me! You figured out my grand scheme! To be a nude, reclusive, shut in with you as my jailor! Now if heaven is real, it looks like that!”  
Gomez stopped short abruptly and began kissing her arm, completely oblivious to the crowds of shoppers around them.  
“I see them!” Morticia hissed, tapping Gomez’s head to get his attention. “They’re going into the jewelry store!”  
“Jewelry on the second date?” Gomez asked. “That must have been one hell of a first time.”  
“Gomez please,” Morticia groaned. “As if the smell of Cinnabon wasn’t sickining enough.”  
“Look, we can hide in those fake plants and watch them through the window!” He pointed out, tugging Morticia toward the plastic plants.  
“Wonderful idea, darling,” she said as they ducked down in the dusty leaves and peered in through the shop window.  
Inside, Fester was following Candy from counter to counter as she tried on a bunch of different and astoundingly gawdy pieces.  
“If she thinks Fester is buying all this, she is sadly mistaken,” Gomez whispered.  
“At least she isn’t trying to change his appearance.”  
“What's to change? Fester’s never looked better.”  
“They continued watching as the salesman laid everything out on the counter. Then, to Morticia’s shock, Fester pulled a black credit card from his pocket. Morticia grabbed Gomez’s arm, nearly impaling him with her long nails. “Look!”  
“Is that?” Gomez gasped, his mouth falling open. “Is that my credit card?”  
“Of course it is! Fester doesn’t have a credit card, remember? His credit score is negative six!” Morticia whispered.  
“Morticia, please, now is not the time to rub Fester’s excellent credit score in my face!”  
“Well, what do we do?” she asked, watching on in shock as he handed the card over. “Should we stop him?”  
Gomez frowned, thoughtfully stroking his moustache. “No, no. I don’t want to embarrass the poor chap.”  
“Gomez, what Fester did was sneaky and conniving and underhanded,” Morticia pointed out. “But it was also wrong.”  
“We’ll talk to him at home,” Gomez sighed. “He can enjoy his date. I would have paid for it if only he’d asked!”  
“They’re leaving!” Morticia pushed Gomez down so they wouldn’t get caught, which resulted in the large plastic ficus getting knocked over, drawing attention to them just as Fester and Candy left.  
Thinking quickly, Gomez threw himself on top of Morticia and started kissing her. At first, Morticia thought it was just one of her husband’s ill timed romantic attempts, until Fester and Candy passed them without recognizing them.  
“Ha! Look! That couple is getting freaky in a bush!” Fester exclaimed as they kept walking.  
“Reminds me of your family,” Candy responded with a laugh.  
“Yeah, but Gomez would never wear jeans,” Fester remarked as they continued on their way.  
Once they were far enough away, Gomez sat back with a relieved sigh. “Our disguises worked!”  
“Thanks to your jeans,” Morticia said as she stood, tugging down the edge of her dress. “Gomez, this is ridiculous.” She extended her hand to help him up.  
“Indeed it is. I haven’t seen a single cigar shop in this place!”  
“No, darling, no. I meant us following Fester around,” Morticia said sullenly. “It seems… I don’t know, shady.”  
“Shady is wonderful!”  
“Normally, yes, I agree.”  
“Morticia, mia, he stole my credit card!” Gomez cried, grabbing her arms. “We’ve earned the right to spy on him a little bit!”  
Morticia nodded in consideration. “That's a fair point. Too bad we didn’t bring Cousin Itt. He’s such a wonderful spy.”  
“And a master of disguise.” Gomez shrugged. “Ah, well, too late now. Let's keep moving before we lose them.”  
Morticia almost wished they would have lost them. The atrocities she and Gomez witnessed in that mall were sure to give her nightmares for weeks to come. The amount of pink dresses bought with Gomez’s credit card, the glittery high heels, the chunky plastic jewelry. Morticia felt nauseous by the time they returned to their blissfully bleak home.  
“Well, I’m going to change,” Gomez declared, pulling awkwardly at his jeans. “This is no attire for dinner.”  
“I’ll join you. My thighs are rather cold.”  
“Mmmm, but what a delicious sight!” Gomez cried before scooping her into his arms and carrying her the rest of the way upstairs. “We will certainly be late for dinner at this rate!”  
…   
Morticia wanted to scream, and not for any fun reason. It was because the only words uttered at dinner were between Gomez and Pugsley, dreaming up ideas for Pugsley’s classes science fair. Other than that, the dining room was as silent as a tomb. That is, until Fester couldn’t take it anymore.  
“Stop glaring at me, Morticia!” he yelled, startling everyone.  
“I am not glaring at you,” Morticia said calmly, crossing her arms.  
“It's probably because you’re schtupping my teacher,” Wednesday muttered.  
“Wednesday!” Morticia gasped, shaking her head at her daughter. “Please, don’t say schtupping.”  
Wednesday shrugged and went back to stabbing at the food on her plate.  
“I had a lovely afternoon with Candy,” Fester said not so subtly. “If anyone was curious.”  
“Yeah?” Gomez asked, leaning his elbows on the table. “Tell us, what did you and Candy buy at the mall?”  
Fester shrugged and looked down at the table. “Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that. Nothing too extravagant. And I talked to her about the whole Girl Scout thing and Wednesday doesn’t have to do it, so long as she writes an essay on how to be a better student.”  
“Good,” Wednesday said flatly. “That's less suicide inducing.”  
“Well then, let me find a way to thank you,” Gomez said, reaching into his jacket pocket. “I’ll reimburse you for everything you bought today!”  
“Gomez,” Morticia hissed under her breath. “What are you doing?”  
He just winked at her before turning his attention back to Fester. “Come on, old man. How much?”  
Fester was completely red, his lovely pallor gone. “N-no, Gomez. I can’t ask you to do that.”  
“Why not?” Gomez asked. “It's only money!”  
Morticia watched in anticipation, understanding her husband’s motive. She really was hoping Fester would do the right thing and confess, but the longer Gomez spent counting out bills, the less likely it seemed that was going to happen.  
“I’ll take the money!” Pugsley said happily.  
“Your allowance is enough, Pugsley,” Gomez said distractedly. “$100 a day is standard for a boy your age. We don’t want to spoil you.”  
“Oh fine.”  
“Gomez, really,” Fester pleaded, rubbing his head. “I already…”  
“Yes?” Gomez and Morticia said at the same time.  
“I already forgot how much I spent,” he fibbed, shrugging his shoulders flippantly.  
“Liar!” Gomez cried, throwing the wad of money down on the table.  
Fester’s mouth fell open in shock. “Yes! But about what?”  
“We know you took Gomez’s credit card to fund your little shopping expedition,” Morticia said, narrowing her eyes. “There is no use denying it.”  
Fester had the nerve to look taken aback. “And how would you know that, Morticia?”  
“Because we followed you!” Gomez cried, no longer caring if he knew. “We saw you buying those horrendously tacky things for Candy!”  
“She deserves the world!” Fester yelled in response.  
“Maybe a world that's not so pink!” Gomez yelled back.  
“Fester, Gomez and I are mostly upset about the fact that you didn’t come to us first,” Morticia said softly in lue of her husband’s angry tone. “We would have given you anything you needed.”  
“Would you? You don’t even like Candy!”  
“Well, some candy is fine,” Gomez said nonchalantly. “Dark chocolate is nice, and those little sour things, shaped like people? Can’t get enough.” He proved his point by pulling a handful from his pocket and shoving them in his mouth. “I like candy that's painful to eat!”  
“Darling, he means Candy Smith.”  
“Ah, yes. Her I don’t care for.”  
“See!” Fester yelled.  
“We still would have given you money!” Gomez yelled back, slamming his hand down on the table, sending his fork flying through the air, nearly impaling Thing on his way through.  
“I wanted Candy to think I was successful on my own,” Fester said with a huff, plopping back down in his seat.  
“Children, why don’t you run along? Mama should be home soon, I’m sure she would like to be welcomed by a blow dart to the leg,” Morticia suggested, wanting the kids out of the dining room for the rest of this conversation.  
Wednesday and Pugsley took off, all too eager to shoot their grandmother.  
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Fester said indignantly.  
“I think that's where the problem lies,” Morticia responded. “This woman isn’t right for you, Fester. It has been a day and look at how much you’ve changed.”  
“She isn’t of the Addams caliber!” Gomez exclaimed.  
“That's rich! You see how we’re treated and then you have the nerve to-”  
“The way we’re treated is by women like her!” Morticia snapped, her calm demeanor slipping.  
Fester glared at her. “Morticia, I’m surprised at you!”  
“You were there when she called us freaks.”  
“She said she felt bad about it later!”  
“After Gomez slapped a wad of hundreds down on the table!” Morticia stood abruptly, her heart pounding in her chest. “Fester, open your eyes.”  
“No!” he exclaimed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I like them closed, thank you.”  
Gomez reached over and grabbed Morticia’s hand before she could pick up the knife from the table. “Morticia and I would just like it if you would come to us the next time you need something, alright?”  
“Since when are you the calm one?” Fester asked in a grumpy tone.  
“I am the picture of serenity at all moments.”  
“Now who's the liar?”  
“Fester, we love you,” Morticia insisted. “We just want to be sure you’re doing the right thing. That you won’t end up hurt in the end.”  
“She isn’t a gold digger,” Fester whispered, more to himself than the other two.  
Morticia opened her mouth to object, but Gomez squeezed her hand a bit too tightly before she could say anything. “Whatever you say, old man. Just give me my card back and all will be forgiven.”  
Sheepishly, Fester pulled the card out of his coat and slid it across the table. “I’m going to take a bubble bath!”  
They watched Fester storm away in a fury, nearly bowling over Lurch in the process. Lurch groaned, shaking his head at Fester’s antics. Gomez shrugged and pulled out a cigar, using Lurch’s hand to strike his match. “I guess we’re done eating. Thank you, Lurch.”  
Morticia grumbled something to herself, tensely crossing her arms.  
“Querida, you know what you need?”  
“Electroshock therapy?”  
Gomez laughed, his moustache twitching. “Fester isn’t the only one with a bathtub.”


	6. Friends talk Kinks over Lunch

“You were right, darling,” Morticia sighed happily. “I needed this.”  
“This water is near boiling! It's absolutely perfect,” Gomez said, sinking further into the black water.  
“And we’re completely alone once again.” Morticia leaned her head back against the edge of the tub. “In blissful, crypt like silence.”  
“Indeed, querida mia. Silence. Just the sound of the candles crackling, the water sloshing…”  
“Gomez talking.”  
Gomez glared at her as Morticia fought hard to mask her smile. “Pardon me, Morticia, I thought you liked the sound of my voice.”  
“I do, darling,” Morticia said, clearly amused. “Very much.”  
“Hmm?” Gomez hummed, raising an eyebrow. “How much?”  
Morticia narrowed her dark eyes at him. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”  
“I’m casting my rod.”  
“Gomez!”  
“We are alone, Tish,” Gomez said with a laugh. “No need to play coy.”  
“But it is so satisfying to get you worked up,” she shot back with a sly smile. “Is it working?”  
“Yes, my temptress, it is.” He leaned in, boxing Morticia in with his arms. “You set my blood aflame!”  
Just as Gomez finally pressed his lips to Morticia’s, there was a deep, pounding knock on the bathroom door. He tensed but didn’t move away. “Darling-”  
“Shh!” he hissed, pressing his finger to her lips. “If we are silent, perhaps they’ll go away.”  
They stayed still, waiting in anticipation to see if the person would go away. However, another knock reverberated through the bathroom. Gomez rolled his eyes in frustration and splashed back against the other end of the tub.  
“Come in!” he called in aggravation.  
Lurch pushed the door open and cautiously walked in, his eyes firmly on the floor. In his hands was an atrocious bouquet of yellow roses in a blue polka dot vase. Morticia’s eyes widened in horror as he extended the flowers toward her. Morticia leaned away, trying to put as much space between her and the flowers as possible.  
“Lurch, what is the meaning of this?” she asked.  
“From Candy,” he grumbled. “For you.”  
When Morticia made no moves to take the vase, Gomez reached forward and plucked the card from between the petals. “Tishy,” he began to read.  
“I’m drowning myself.”  
“I would really like it if we could meet for lunch tomorrow. I would hate to think we were still on bad terms. I’ll be at le bistro dejeuner- oof, even when I speak French!” He lunged forward and grabbed Morticia’s arm, sloshing water over the side of the tub in the process.  
Lurch groaned as he looked down at his now wet shoes.  
“Gomez, Lurch is right there,” Morticia said, trying desperately to stay appropriately below water.  
“Right, where was I?” he asked, pulling away from Morticia’s arm and turning back to the note. “At noon. I really hope to see you there! There's an exclamation point and everything. Love, Candy. Wow, love, do I have competition?”  
Morticia scoffed. “Absolutely not. Lurch, could you please take these flowers down to the conservatory? I’ll be making them much more appealing tomorrow.”  
“I’ll put them by your clippers,” Lurch said before turning to leave.  
Morticia turned to look at Gomez, finding him watching her with an amused grin. “Care to explain that look?”  
“I’m rather looking forward to you coming home covered in blood.”  
“Gomez, I don’t understand this woman.” Morticia took the small card from his hand and read it over, finding that it was written in a glitter gel pen.   
Gomez shrugged and took the card, tossing it away. “Haven’t we thought about her enough for one day?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then let's put away our quandaries for tonight and not speak of Candy until your lunch tomorrow, agreed?”  
“Who says I’m going?”  
“You’re a good person, Tish.”  
“Don’t insult me.”  
Gomez laughed, shaking his head. “You will go, because it will make Fester happy.”  
Morticia groaned, hating the fact that he was right. “Maybe I need you to convince me,” she said, raising an eyebrow.  
A low rumble erupted from his throat as he leaned forward, latching his lips onto her neck. Morticia threw her head back, winding her arms around his neck. He bit into her flesh, sending shockwaves of pleasure down her body. Morticia drug her long nails down his back, eliciting a gasp from his lips.  
“I am too frustrated to play any games, Gomez,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against his. “Take me, now.”  
He growled, his eyes growing dark as he thrust his hips forward. More water spilled out over the tub and onto the black and white tiles. “Am I… convincing you?” Gomez gasped, clutching the edge of the tub so hard his knuckles turned white.  
Morticia laughed darkly. “Nearly there.”  
“Ugh, cara mia!”  
“I’m convinced!”  
…   
“I’ve changed my mind,” Morticia stated flatly the next morning as she stood hesitantly on the front porch. Lurch was standing in front of the car, ready to drive her to this lunch that Morticia was dreading with every fiber of her being. She swiftly turned on her heel and was about to rush back into the house when Gomez caught her.  
“Morticia, it is for Fester,” he said, spinning her back around. “And you know how much Lurch loves driving into the city with all that construction. Don’t get his hopes up.”  
Morticia sighed, gritting her teeth. “Very well. Lurch does so love weaving around those orange cones.” She turned to Gomez, reaching up to stroke his face. “I’ll miss you.”  
Gomez pressed a passionate kiss against her palm. “I will be counting the hours, the minutes, the seconds!”  
“It will be pure agony,” Morticia said before she and Gomez absolutely devoured each other.  
Lurch groaned and rolled his eyes, shutting off the engine of the car. He knew how long this would take. Fester wandered outside around the same time, eating a paddle from a cactus. He scoffed at the couple, putting his hands on his hips. He gave them a moment to notice him, which they didn’t.  
“She’s going to lunch! Not Syberia!” Fester exclaimed before taking another bite.  
“Syberia!” Morticia gasped as they broke apart.  
“Our third honeymoon,” Gomez said with a dream filled sigh. “You were ravishingly blue, querida.”  
“I still remember the icicles in your moustache.”  
“Goodbye, Morticia!” Fester said impatiently, opening the car door for her. “Tell my sweet Candy I say hello.”  
Morticia choked down a gag as she pulled away from her husband to get in the car. “I’ll do that, no worries.”  
“Goodbye, my love!” Gomez called as Lurch once again started the car.  
“Au revoir, mon cher!” Morticia called as the car pulled away.   
“Tish!” Gomez all but screamed. Fester had to catch him to keep him from chasing the car down.  
“Get a grip,” Fester muttered, shaking his head.   
“You’re telling me that Candy does not drive you mad in this way?” Gomez asked, straightening out his jacket as he walked back into the house once the car was out of sight.  
“Well, sure she does,” Fester said, twisting his fingers together. “In her own way.”  
Gomez pulled out a cigar and took a seat in the sitting room. “Care to elaborate, old man?”  
“Gee, I don’t know, Gomez.” Fester plunked down across from him on an alligator shaped bench. “I don’t think you would ‘get it.’”  
Gomez laughed. “Don’t think I would get it? I was no priest before I met Morticia.”  
“It's not that. Candy is just different.”  
“Obviously.”  
“See! You and Morticia, you don’t get it because she isn’t what we’re used to!”  
“I feel like we’ve been having this conversation in circles for days,” Gomez groaned. “Fester, we are happy for you, truly! Even if she was the Easter Bunny we would be happy for you, don’t you know that?”  
Fester shrugged. “I guess I do…”  
“So stop wallowing in self pity because you’ve chosen a white sheep and tell me what it is about Candy that drives you mad!”  
If Gomez wasn’t crazy, he would say that Fester blushed. “Well, for one thing, she doesn’t scream and run when I come toward her anymore.”  
Gomez blinked at him. “Is that… is that it?”  
“No! She says that my third nipple is really endearing,” he said smugly, but Gomez was not impressed.  
“Fester…”   
“I like it when she laughs! It sounds like a goose getting choked!” Fester declared, stomping his foot.  
Gomez nodded, steepling his fingers as he scrutinized Fester. “And that is really all it takes for you to be happy? A nice laugh and someone who won’t run away?”  
“I’m not exactly up to my ears in women, Gomez,” Fester said quietly.  
“That doesn’t mean you have to settle.”  
“Doesn’t it? Look, I finally have someone who’s into me! Me! I’m not going to squander it because of these silly reasons!”  
Gomez held up his hands in surrender. “You are a grown man, Fester. If you are happy, I am happy. But if you’re not-”  
“I am!”  
“Very well. You’re not going to hear another word out of me. Just keep little Wednesday in mind, alright? This is very strange for her, you know.” He patted Fester’s shoulder on his way to the door. “And I am not liable if she rigs some kind of trap for Candy.”  
“What kind of trap?”  
Gomez shrugged. “A kind with sharp knives, most likely. Unless she gets Pugsley’s help, then it will be an exploding kind for sure.”

…  
Morticia stepped out of the car onto the busy sidewalk, squinting against the annoying sun beating down on her. As if the day wasn’t bad enough already. She turned back to the green car, leaning down to look through the window at Lurch. “Would you like to join us for lunch?” she asked with an eerie, out of place smile.  
Lurch groaned and shook his head, lifting a paper bag from the passenger seat. “I brought my own. Toad casserole.”  
“That will keep until tomorrow. I’ll pay, of course.” Morticia was still smiling, which was only serving to further unsettle Lurch.  
“No, Mrs. Addams. Thank you.”  
Morticia’s face fell back into a frown. “Very well. Enjoy your casserole.”  
Lurch groaned in thanks as she walked away.   
Accepting her fate, Morticia headed toward the bistro, only to stop short with confusion at the sight on the patio. Candy was sitting there, as expected, but she wasn’t alone. Tully was beside her and they were deep in conversation. Morticia crossed her arms, her eyebrows pulling together.  
This does not add up.  
Tully suddenly got up in a hurry and rushed down the opposite way of Morticia, so he never saw her. She continued on, approaching Candy, who was grinning to herself over a mimosa.   
“Tishy!” she squealed once she noticed her, leaping up to give Morticia a hug.  
“Oh, you’re hugging me, alright,” Morticia said, patting Candy’s head.  
“Geez, you’re so skinny,” Candy commented as she took a seat. “What's your secret?”  
“Which one?”  
Candy gave her a confused look before shaking her head. “Oh, nevermind.”  
“Was that Tully Alford I saw?” Morticia asked, unable to help herself.   
Candy swallowed thickly, taking a long sip from her glass. “Oh, yeah, it was. He recognized me from meeting at your house is all. He was just saying hi.”  
Morticia crossed her arms. It sure didn’t look like a simple hello and goodbye. However, Morticia didn’t come to this lunch to make trouble, no matter how much she wanted to, so she dropped it. “That was nice of him.”  
“He seems like a very nice man.”  
“Yes, I’ve always found him to be a little weasel,” Morticia said with a forced smile.  
“Right… anyway, Morticia, I’m so happy you came,” Candy said, changing the subject. “Did you like the flowers?”  
“They certainly were… yellow.”  
“Yellow roses signify friendship,” Candy said happily. “And I do really hope we can be friends and put everything behind us. And I’m sorry if me having Wednesday join the Girl Scouts made you uncomfortable. I told Fester she doesn’t have to do it if she writes a paper instead.”  
“Wednesday prefers that option. Though she was warming up to the idea of being invited into peoples houses…”  
Candy laughed uncomfortably. “I really do like Fester, Morticia. Which means it's important to me that I make a good impression on his family. I know I’ve been hard on Wednesday in the past.”  
“Yes, so she’s told me.”  
“She really is a very smart girl.” Candy took a break to finish off her mimosa. Morticia found herself wondering how many she had before she got here. “Anyway, this isn’t a parent teacher conference.”  
The waiter came over, saving Morticia from saying something snippy in response and also giving her time to panic about what the hell the two of them were going to talk about if not Wednesday. She certainly didn’t want to spend the lunch listening to Candy drone on about Fester in that squeaky voice of hers. Morticia didn’t believe this facade for a second, but she had no proof that Candy was a big fake, other than that strange shopping spree yesterday.  
“So, how long have you and Gomez been married?” Candy asked, filling Morticia with relief.  
“Thirteen years.”  
Candy’s eyebrows raised in shock. “Wow, good for you! And Pugsley is what, 10?”  
Morticia squinted slightly. “Yes.”  
“So a nice three years without kids. That must have been great. It really must have made a big difference since the two of you seem like you’re on a permanent honeymoon.” Candy sighed and rested her chin on her hand. “How do you keep it fresh?”  
“Embalming fluid.”  
Candy frowned. “No, I… no. I meant your relationship.”  
“Oh, of course.” Morticia thought for a moment. She didn’t think that she and Gomez were so abnormal. Did other couples not live like they did? The thought seemed absurd. “Well, it just sort of happens that way when you’re in love, I suppose.”  
“Yeah, but love fades, doesn’t it?” Candy asked. “You have to find ways to keep that spark alive.”  
“Well, at least you won’t have to worry about that with Uncle Fester,” Morticia said, eager to get away from this strange topic. “He’s electric.”  
“Right, yes, he’s shown me his lightbulb trick. I don’t know how he does it.”  
“Well, he is just full of A/C.”  
The waiter came by with Candy’s next mimosa. Morticia watched her thoughtfully as she sipped on her cup of tea. She was starting to wonder if Candy didn’t actually have a drinking problem. And she was dreading the though of having to give her a ride home later.  
“Morticia,” she said slowly, setting down her now half empty glass. “We’re girlfriends, right?”  
Morticia looked around, slightly confused by the question. Candy was looking at her intently from behind her horn rimmed glasses, expecting an answer. “Friends, yes,” Morticia said slowly, even though it was a lie.  
“Then can I ask you something?”  
“By all means.” Morticia slowly lifted her cup to her lips, waiting with bated breath for whatever absurd thing was going to come out of Candy’s mouth next.  
“I need to know how to keep things spicy in the bedroom.”  
Morticia nearly choked from surprise. By no means whatsoever was Morticia a prude, but there were just some things you don’t discuss with someone you barely know, let alone when it's that someone’s uncle you need sex advice for.   
“Why are you asking me?” she finally asked once she stopped hacking. “Surely there is someone you know… better.”  
“I don’t know anyone like you!” Candy said, grabbing Morticia’s wrist. “You’re so seductive and hot!”  
Morticia’s eyes widened in shock. She looked down the street to where Lurch was parked, hoping she could signal to him for help. But it would seem he was engrossed in the obituary section of the newspaper.  
“Okay, Miss Smith, I think you’ve had enough mimosas,” Morticia said in a gentle voice, moving the practically empty flute away. “Why don’t we order you some coffee?”  
“I’m being serious, Tishy!” Candy insisted. “Fester is such a suave man of the world.”  
“He is?”  
“I’m worried he is going to grow bored of me and move onto the next girl that saunters across his path!” Candy cried in desperation. “I need to know your secrets! What do you do that drives Gomez wild?”  
Morticia was shook, as the kids would say. Candy had managed to completely disrupt her normally calm and cool demeanor and had her gaping like a fish on a hook. This woman, who only a day ago had behaved like she was so high and mighty, so above Morticia, was now clamoring to her for advice? Sex advice? In a crowded cafe in the middle of the afternoon? Something was wrong, Morticia had known it from her outburst at dinner, but none of the wrongness was adding up.   
Then a lovely thought struck Morticia. Perhaps Candy was schizophrenic! But the thought passed as soon as she had it. She didn’t exhibit any of the usual signs, other than her doing a complete 180 every few minutes.  
“You really want my advice?” she finally asked, if only to get Candy to stop making that ridiculous puppy dog face.  
“Tell me everything,” Candy insisted. “Down to the last dirty detail! How do you seduce Gomez?”  
“I don’t really ever have to try… speaking French seems to do the trick quite easily.”  
“French, got it.”  
Morticia shook her head. “But Gomez and Fester are quite different.”  
“I’m sure what works for one works for the other,” Candy said quickly and dismissively. “They are brothers, afterall.”   
“They’re not, but very well.” Morticia took a moment to think. “Whips are rather effective.”  
“Whips?”  
“Yes, riding crops also get the job done and are much easier to control.”  
“Oh my…”  
“Handcuffs work wonders if you don’t have access to a rack to strap him to.”  
Candy’s face was starting to say that she regretted this decision, but it was too late now, Morticia was on a roll.  
“Hot wax, boiling oil, red hot pokers. Choking!”  
“Choking?”  
“Oh yes,” Morticia said with a slight smile. “Gomez loves being choked.”  
Candy’s face was pale as she reached over Morticia to grab her confiscated mimosa glass. “I thought you were going to say something simple, like role play.”  
“You mean like an orderly and psychopath? You’ll need a straight jacket for that one. We have one in Fester’s size, if you want it.”  
“This stuff really gets Gomez going?” Candy asked in disbelief.   
“Oh yes,” Morticia said with a grin, her thoughts now preoccupied with what she was going to do to her husband when she got home. “And like you said, they’ll probably work on Fester too.”  
“Right, Fester,” Candy said softly.  
Morticia let out a dreamy sigh, still lost in thought as the food came. Candy was also lost in thought, a slightly bewildered expression on her face. Morticia shook herself out of her daze and looked down at her plate of escargots. Candy had opted for a safer option of a salad, which she was now frowning at.  
“I hope I helped,” Motricia finally said, breaking through the silence.  
Candy shook herself back into her overly perky facade. “Of course you did! More than you know, Morticia.”  
“That sounded rather ominous,” Morticia remarked.  
“Did it? I’m sorry,” Candy quickly apologized.  
“No need to be sorry, I liked it.”  
“Well, I’m going to see Fester tonight. Maybe I’ll try some things out on him.”  
“That's more information than I need,” said Morticia, who just exposed all her husband’s kinks to someone who was almost a perfect stranger.  
“I have a bad habit of oversharing,” Candy said with a shrug. “That's why my whole class knows I have a lower back tattoo.”  
“Yes, Wednesday was rather amused by that,” Morticia said with a smirk. “However, it made her like you a little bit more.”  
“It did?” Candy asked with a laugh. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You aren’t a typical family, that's for sure.”  
“As I’ve been told,” Morticia said softly. “Many times.”  
“Yeah, but it doesn’t really seem like you are too bothered by that, right?” Candy said nonchalantly. “You’re all so confident in your weirdness.”  
“If you say so,” Morticia said with a shrug, not wanting to get into an argument.  
But it bothered her so much! Why was she the weird one? It didn’t make any sense. Her family was loving and close knit, and they seemed a hell of a lot happier than anyone else. What was it that made them odd? Was it because Wednesday threw a spear through their neighbor’s window? What kid doesn’t like to have fun?  
Candy was weird, if you wanted Mortica’s honest opinion. She could list reasons for hours, but she didn’t want to. Because unlike everyone else, Morticia didn’t get her rocks off by sitting around for hours judging people.  
“But you’re so pretty,” Candy said, snapping Morticia from her spiral of thoughts. “I mean, you look like you could suck my soul out through my eyes, but you’re also stunning.”  
Morticia didn’t really know why Candy thought it was necessary to tell her that, but she accepted the compliment. She did rather like the soul sucking part. “Thank you, Candy.”  
“You must beat men off with a stick.”  
“Only Gomez,” Morticia said with a smirk.   
“Right,” Candy said with a sigh. “Of course.”


	7. The Bats and the Wasps

The second Lurch pushed the front door open, the sound of pounding feet were heard on the floor above, rushing down the stairs. “Tish!” Gomez cried, running at full speed toward his wife. He threw his arms around her, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her in a circle. “I’ve missed you!”  
Lurch groaned.  
“No need to be jealous, Lurch,” Gomez said, setting Morticia down. “I missed you too.”  
“Thank you, Sir,” Lurch said before wandering off.  
“Was lunch dreadful?” Gomez asked, pulling Morticia toward the sitting room. “Tell me everything.”  
“It was… odd.”  
“Wonderful!”  
“No, not wonderful.” Morticia crossed her arms, going over the events of the afternoon in her mind. “But it wasn’t terrible either, come to think of it.”  
“Morticia,” Gomez said with a smirk.  
“Yes?”  
“Morticia,” he said again, leaning back in his chair.  
Morticia raised an eyebrow. “Gomez?”  
“Did you kill Candy?” he asked with thinly masked excitement.  
Morticia laughed and took a seat on his lap. “No, I didn’t.”  
“Awe,” Gomez groaned.  
“I’m truly sorry to disappoint you, my darling.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. “But the day is still young.”  
“What could the two of you possibly have talked about for so long?” he inquired before lazily kissing his way up her arm.  
Morticia shrugged. “Sex mostly.”  
Gomez snorted, accidentally inhaling a strand of her hair. “What? Why?”  
“She asked,” Morticia said. “She wanted advice for how to keep Fester ‘engaged’ sexually.”  
Gomez’s face twisted in a confused grimace. “She has to know that she only has to make direct eye contact to keep him sexually engaged.”  
“You would think, but she was genuinely nervous about it…. I don’t know, Gomez.”  
“You still don’t trust her.”  
“Until she can stop pointing out the fact that we’re odd, I am going to be wary of her,” Morticia said bitterly.  
“But we aren’t odd!” Gomez exclaimed.  
“Yes, I know that,” Morticia said miserably. “And perhaps, making matters worse, I invited her here for dinner tomorrow.”  
“Morticia,” Gomez groaned, throwing his head back.  
“I know, I know. I was just trying to embody the Addams spirit, the way you would,” she said, still stroking his cheek. “You are always so welcoming and kind to everyone. Even if they don’t quite deserve it.”  
Gomez shot her an incredulous look. “Sucking up will get you nowhere, darling.” he seemed to consider something for a moment. “Sucking, however-”  
“Gomez!” Morticia admonished, shooting him a warning look. “You know how Pugsley likes to tunnel through the walls.”  
“It's nothing I haven’t heard before!” came Pugsley’s muffled voice from somewhere around them.  
“He needs to learn at some time,” Gomez said in his defence once he saw Morticia’s look.  
“He is ten.”  
“The perfect age!”  
“Then you go have the talk about the bats and the wasps,” Morticia said, pointing toward the wall.   
“Ehh, must I?”  
“It's okay, there are no child locks on the internet!” Pugsley called, his voice coming from a different part of the room.  
Gomez shrugged. “Problem solved.”  
Morticia rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but kiss him. “Darling, I have a question.”  
“Yes, you are stunning.”  
“No, not that. Has Tully been acting strangely around you?”  
Gomez shrugged. “No more than usual. Why?”   
“I saw him talking to Candy at the cafe before I got there. It seemed like they were deep in conversation but she played it off like he was just saying hi to be polite,” Morticia explained, thoughtfully chewing on her nail.  
“Perhaps Tully is also fond of our Miss Smith,” Gomez suggested, absentmindedly twirling a strand of Morticia’s hair around his finger.  
“He’s married,” Morticia pointed out.  
“Cara mia, not every man is so hopelessly devoted to his wife the way I am to you, as much of a shame as that is.” He kissed the strand of hair he was toying with, his eyes fixed on Morticia. “I am a very lucky man.”  
Morticia smiled, scratching her nails down his cheek. “Do you want me to show you how lucky?”  
“Do you even have to ask?” Gomez said, springing to his feet with Morticia in his arms. “Pugsley, go tunnel somewhere else!”  
“Okay!”

…  
“Wednesday, darling, what are you doing?” Morticia asked upon walking into the dining room to find Wednesday doing something to one of the guest chairs.  
“I’m rigging Candy’s chair so that when she sits a knife goes straight through her-”  
“Yes, I get the picture,” Morticia laughed. “That's rather ingenious.”  
“But you’re going to tell me I can’t impale her,” Wednesday said flatly.  
Morticia frowned, sitting down beside Wednesday on the ground. “I love your determination. And your imagination. You’re so brilliant, Wednesday.”  
“Don’t make me ill, Mother.”  
Morticia smiled, adjusting one of Wednesday’s braids. “I hate that I have to tell you to take this chair elsewhere, but don’t you think your Uncle Fester should be the one to impale his date?”  
Wednesday frowned deeply. “I suppose. But then what can I do?”  
Morticia thought for a moment, a devious smirk forming on her face. “What if we go a little smaller? You could put a thumbtack on her chair instead of a full knife.”  
“That would make her scream,” Wednesday said happily.  
“Indeed, it would. I’m sure there's a box in your father’s office, if you want to go ask him for one.”  
“Okay!” Wednesday said excitedly before getting up and rushing out of the dining room.  
Out of curiosity, Morticia pushed down on the chair cushion, making the knife spring up at a rapid speed. Morticia’s eyes widened in shock. It was a rather big knife, and jagged too. Wednesday really thought of everything.  
Morticia stood, pulling on a noose to ring for Lurch. Moments later he appeared saying, “you rang?”  
“Lurch, could you please take this chair down to the playroom? Carefully!”  
“Wednesday?” he asked.  
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful?”  
“Very.” He carried the chair away, looking at it in wonder as we went.  
“Morticia!” came Fester’s loud voice from the hall. “Why is Wednesday searching for thumbtacks?”  
Morticia shrugged subtly, crossing her arms. “For her crime board, maybe?”  
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”  
Fester was about to turn and go when Morticia stopped him. “I’m happy for you, Fester.”  
He turned, raising an inquisitive brow. “Really? So your lunch went that well?”  
“I invited her here for dinner tomorrow, didn’t I?”  
“Yeah… okay, well thanks, Morticia. It's nice to be wanted, ya know?” Fester nervously wrung his hands together. “And it's nice to no longer feel like the dud.”  
Morticia shook her head. “No one ever thought of you as a dud, Uncle Fester.”  
He shot her an incredulous look. “Don’t humor me.”  
“Fester, you do know Gomez and I hold you in the highest regard,” Morticia said softly, walking over to him. “Like Jack the Ripper, or Ghengis Khan.”  
“Oh, you’re just being nice because you’re my niece,” Fester said, brushing her off.  
“I knew it!”  
“Anyway, I’m glad we’re all squared away. I’m gonna go outside and find some weeds to give Candy tomorrow,” Fester said happily. “I’m really excited.”  
“I saw some lovely weeds down by the bog. Have fun, Fester.”  
“Oh, I will!”


	8. Underhanded in the Office

“Sheeeefiwip!”  
“No, Cousin Itt, she isn’t coming to be hunted for sport!” Gomez yelled up the chimney. “She is dating Uncle Fester!”  
“Phwahoo! Milapinou, shimbafet.”  
“No, she doesn’t have a friend for you!” Gomez yelled up and received a face full of soot in response. “So I’ll mark you down as a no for dinner then?”  
“Walahoost.”   
“Spoil sport.”   
He stood, brushing himself off as Morticia walked in. “Darling, your face is covered in soot. It's rather attractive.”  
He grinned, his teeth overly white against the black powder covering his face. “Then I’ll leave it.” He started winking as some got in his eye. “Except I might go blind.”  
Morticia pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and started wiping his face. “We can’t have that.”  
“Eh, Itt was just expressing himself,” Gomez said happily. “He’s very passionate.”  
“As you Addams men are apt to be.” Morticia grinned and kissed him. “Has Mama left with the children yet?”  
“Yes, about ten minutes ago. They’re going to see the latest Ari Astor film.”  
“They do love a comedy,” Morticia said thoughtfully. “And it's probably for the best, though I’m sad Wednesday is going to miss seeing her prank come to life.”  
“Is that why she came into my office asking for thumbtacks?”  
“I talked her into sticking one of those on Candy’s chair instead of using her knife contraption.”  
“I sat on that!” Gomez cried. “In the playroom this morning!”  
Morticia’s eyes widened in shock. “Darling, are you alright?”  
“Oh yes! It hit me just right, it felt marvelous. Though I did I have to throw out that pair of pants.” He frowned. “That rip was too big to repair.”  
“It was a large knife.”  
“Very.” He shrugged. “Oh well, easy come easy go.”  
The doorbell rang, signaling Candy’s arrival. That was followed by Fester’s bounding footsteps rushing down the hall. “I’ll get it, Lurch!” he cried, nearly pushing the butler out of the way to get to the door.  
“Quite the eager beaver,” Gomez commented, threading his arm through Morticia’s.  
“I never thought we would see the day,” Morticia whispered as Fester yanked open the door.  
“Fessie!” Candy exclaimed, throwing her arms around Fester’s neck.  
Morticia nearly gagged. “So she has a nickname for everyone.”  
“Are you jealous, dear?” Gomez teased.  
She glared at him from the side of her eye. “Don’t be ridiculous.”  
“How long until she calls me Mezzy?” Gomez joked.  
“Go to lunch with her.”  
“Tishy, hi!” Candy squealed, running over to hug Morticia before she could protest. “I brought you more flowers and a nice, sparkling rosè for dinner!” She handed Morticia a pink and white polka dot vase filled with pink carnations before handing the wine to Gomez.  
Morticia bit her lip to keep it from curling up in revulsion. Carnations didn’t even have thorns! If she cut off the flowers, she would just be left with wimpy stems! However, Fester’s intense gaze was telling her she needed to act appreciative and quick, before the silence got awkward.  
“Thank you very much, Candy,” she said with a forced smile.  
“I thought the pink would brighten the place up a bit,” Candy stated.   
Gomez and Morticia shared a look but kept their mouths shut. “This wine,” Gomez said to fill the tension. “Is also… pink.”  
Candy nodded happily, her blonde curls bouncing. “It's all I drink!”  
“Let's go to the dining room!” Fester said, taking Candy’s hand and pulling her along.  
“I will admit,” Gomez whispered when they were out of earshot, “I don’t know how you got through a whole lunch with her.”  
“Well, my dear, I think you are about to find out just how strong of a woman you married.”

…  
After dinner, which Gomez considered to be a fascinating psychological dive into the mind of a deeply disturbed person, he momentarially excused himself to retrieve a new box of cigars from his study. Sure, he had plenty of cigars in the living room, but he wanted an excuse to get away momentarially. He was happy for Fester, truly, but Candy was too much. And the fact that she was flaunting a diamond necklace that Gomez paid for made his blood boil. And not in a good way like when Morticia speaks French.  
He took his time while also feeling bad for leaving his wife in the lurch. Pun intended. He flipped open the cigar box on his desk and shoved a few in his pocket when he heard the door click shut behind him. Gomez smirked to himself, keeping his back to the door.  
“Came to get away, cara mia?”  
“You could say that,” said a voice that most definitely did not belong to Morticia.  
Gomez whipped around, eyes widening in shock. “Candy?” he asked. “Did you get lost?”  
She shook her head, pulling off her glasses. “I think I’m in just the right place, mon cher.”  
Gomez backed against the desk as Candy came closer, pulling off her pink cardigan in the process and tossing it aside. “This… this isn’t a bathroom, Candy.”  
“I don’t want the bathroom, Gomez,” she said in some kind of husky whisper that had Gomez thinking there was a luger in her throat.  
“Um, then what do you want?” he asked, trying to back away further but finding that he would have to climb over his desk to do so.   
“Oh, Mezzy-”  
“Dear God.”  
“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked, grabbing the lappel of his blazer and yanking him away from the desk.  
“You need a shrink!” Gomez cried, slipping out of her grip. “I have a number for one somewhere around here…”   
Gomez turned away and started ruffling through the stacks of papers on his desk while trying to think of an escape plan. Then, without warning, he was met with the familiar feeling of a sharp sting across his ass. “Candy!” he cried, jumping around to find her holding a ruler and smiling deviously.  
“Yes, say my name again!” she said before whacking his arm with the ruler.  
Panic was starting to set in as Gomez realized this wasn’t some strange misunderstanding. Fester was going to be crushed. Morticia was going to murder Candy. Eh, one out of two ain’t bad. “Candy, I think you should turn around and go back down stairs,” Gomez said slowly. “Fester is waiting for you.”  
Candy lunged forward, dropping the ruler to instead wrap her hands around Gomez’s neck. Even though she was much shorter, she was somehow able to pin Gomez down against the desk. “But I’m waiting for you, Mr. Addams.”  
“Why are you choking me?” he rasped, slapping at her hands. “We all agreed, no hunting for sport tonight!”  
Candy pouted her ridiculously pink lips at him. “But I thought you liked being choked.”  
“By my wife!”  
“She doesn’t need to know!” Candy declared as she started squeezing harder. “I won’t tell her!”  
Gomez jerked himself away, which resulted in Candy leaving a long scratch across his neck. Not only was Morticia going to murder her, she was also going to find a way to tourture Candy’s ghost for all eternity at this point.   
“What is wrong with you?” Gomez hissed, taking in the crazed woman in front of him. “Don’t you know that Fester has fallen madly for you?”  
“You’re the brother for me, Gomez,” she said, popping a button on her floral dress.  
“Fester is my uncle in law!” he cried in a weak defense, dashing away from Candy as she made another lunge for him. “Candy, think this through!”  
“Oh, I have, Gomez. You’re all man! All Latin man. And you know what they say about Latin men.”  
“I don’t appreciate being stereotyped.”  
“Say something in Spanish!” Candy cried, flinging herself across the couch Gomez was hiding behind.  
“Sal de mi oficina, perra loca!” he yelled, gesturing toward the door.  
“Mmmm, yummy,” Candy growled. “Take me now!”  
“I’ll take you to the asylum is where I’ll take you!” Gomez yelled as Candy yanked him down. She was strangely strong. “It's very lovely there!”  
“Forget Fester, forget Morticia!” Candy said as she all but ripped his blazer from his body. “It can be just you and me, Gomez!”  
“No thanks!”  
“Oh, hush,” Candy said, slapping her hand over Gomez’s mouth. “You want me, Gomez, I can tell.”  
“No!” Gomez cried, escaping the couch. He held out his hands in front of him, desperate to keep Candy at bay. “No, Candy, I have been trying to spare your feelings through this whole fiasco, but enough is enough! You are completely warped in the head if you honestly think I would ever want anyone other than Morticia!”  
Candy frowned, finally stopping her assult. “There has to be something I can do that Morticia can’t!”  
Gomez shook his head, cautiously reaching for his jacket. “There really, really isn’t. Go back down stairs, and we will forget that whatever this was ever happened. Deal?”   
Candy stood and started collecting her discarded belongings. Gomez was feeling relieved, thinking she was actually going to walk away. Until she said, “no, I don’t think I’ll forget about this. I’ll win you over, Mr. Addams.”  
“What makes you think I won’t tell Fester?” Gomez asked. “Or Morticia, for that matter.”  
“Because you’re a big family man, aren’t you, Gomez?” Candy hissed. “Lovely yet spooky wife, strange but smart kids. You wouldn’t want all of that taken away from you, would you?”  
“My family would never believe you over me,” Gomez stated, all traces of levity gone from his voice.  
“Fester would,” Candy said with a mirthless laugh. “Especially if I were to tell him you forced yourself on me.”  
“If this is you trying to win me over-”  
“We’ll talk later, Gomez,” Candy said before leaving the study, slamming the door in his face.


	9. In which Morticia throws many objects

Morticia was livid, she was enraged, she was on the verge of both arson and manslaughter. She thought she would find Gomez alone in his study, hiding from the party. Instead she found Candy not only trying to seduce her husband, but then threatening him as well.  
Part of Morticia wanted to barge in and bust her right then and there, but then she decided against it. Candy needed to suffer, but Fester did not. Making a scene now would only hurt Fester, probably irreparably. No, Morticia would wait, and the reward would be well worth it.  
She managed to dart away from the door right before Candy came out, making it back down to the living room just in time. She got a questioning look from Fester at her swift movements. “What put a fire under your ass?”  
Morticia shot him a look. “Uncle Fester, watch yourself.”  
“Do you think Candy got lost going to the bathroom?”  
A nagging, guilty feeling gnawed at Morticia’s stomach. How could Candy do that to such a sweet man? Morticia faked a smile, smoothing out her dress. “This house could be confusing for an outsider.”  
“I’m back, Fessie!” Candy squealed as she plopped down in his lap. “Did you miss me?”  
It was all Morticia could do to not pull out a knife and hurl it at her head.  
“I sure did!” Fester exclaimed, right as Gomez walked in, looking frazzled and haunted. Under normal circumstances, Morticia would have found that very attractive. However, knowing she wasn’t the cause was not sitting well with her.  
Gomez walked over and kissed the top of Morticia’s head. He sat on the arm of her chair, his eyes firmly on the floor and not on Candy and Fester. Morticia wanted to say something, but she kept her mouth firmly shut. One thing she could take solace in, at least, was the fact that Gomez so adamantly didn’t want a single thing to do with that slut.  
The final straw for Morticia was Candy leaning over and placing a big, fat kiss on Fester’s cheek. She stood, startling Gomez. “I’m sorry to cut the night short, but I’m feeling rather run down. I’ll say goodnight.”   
“Night, Tishy!” Candy said in her horribly fake voice.  
Morticia shot her a venomous look, but let a slow smile spread across her lips. “Enjoy yourself. If you need anything, just shriek.”   
Gomez quickly followed behind, not sparing much of a glance to the couple canoodling on the chair. And for the first time ever, he found that he had to jog to keep up with Morticia, his normally composed wife who enjoys walking at a leisurely pace. He was worried she was going to rip the tight hem of her dress.  
“Tish?” he said cautiously as she all but slammed open their bedroom door.   
Morticia spun around, pulling a small dagger out of the bodice of her dress and swiftly threw it at the wall, narrowly missing Gomez’s head. “That… that hussy!” she cried, finally able to properly unleash her rage. She yanked up her dress and pulled out the dagger she had strapped to her thigh and threw that at the wall as well.  
Gomez’s face fell. “Cara mia, what all did you see?” he asked, hoping she didn’t think he was to blame for all of this.  
“Enough!” Morticia said through gritted teeth before hurling her shoe at the wall as well.  
“Morticia, you have to believe that I didn’t encourage any of that!” Gomez said, cautiously stepping toward her.  
“Of course I know that,” Morticia sighed, her shoulders sagging. “And what you said about only wanting me was really very nice.”  
Gomez tentatively put his hand on her shoulder. “It was true.”  
“Be that as it may, my love, we still have a very large problem on our hands. Not only does Candy not care about Fester, she threatened you.” Morticia crossed her arms, looking dejectedly down at the floor.   
“My darling, if you were listening that whole time, why didn’t you come in?” Gomez asked, gently cupping her face.  
“Because I want to tourture her,” Morticia stated simply. “We’ll let her live her little charade, for now. Until I decide the best course of action.”  
Gomez grinned, unable to keep from kissing her. “I love how your brain works, querida.”   
“And I hate how Candy’s works,” Morticia sneered. “Asking me for sex advice only to turn around and use it on you!”  
“She spanked me with a ruler!” Gomez cried, rubbing his butt absentmindedly. “Then choked me!”  
“Sneaky bitch,” Mortica hissed. “Man stealer!” She threw her other shoe at the wall, knocking off a photo in the process. “Blonde!”  
“Darling, Pugsley is blond.”  
“But it works on him!”  
“Your sister Ophelia is blonde as well,” Gomez pointed out.  
“Is that supposed to help right now?” Morticia asked, searching for something else to throw.  
“You’re right, that was in poor taste.”  
Morticia made a beeline for the urn sitting on their mantle. “I’m so angry!”  
“But we don’t have to take it out on Grandpa Droop!” Gomez cried, catching Morticia around the waist before she could reach the urn.  
Morticia huffed, sagging in Gomez’s arms. “She has such a nerve! A nerve I would like to forcefully remove from her body!”  
“Morticia,” Gomez said, walking around to face her while also keeping a tight hold on her. “I understand your anger, cara mia. But you’re the one who wanted to wait to get even.”  
Morticia was about to say something back when she noticed a thin red line on Gomez’s neck. She reached up and traced her finger across it. “Did she scratch you?”  
Gomez shrugged. “A casualty?”  
Morticia shook her head, her jaw set in a firm line. “No one marks my husband except for me.”  
Before Gomez could make a typical, amorous remark, Morticia lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a searing kiss. This is how their night would have ended regardless, but Morticia felt like she was sort of getting the upper hand on Candy, in a way. Even though it was an upper hand that never fell in the first place.  
“My, my, I should make you jealous more often,” Gomez said as Morticia started pulling his jacket off.  
“Don’t you dare,” Morticia warned, tightening his tie before yanking it off. “I don’t like this feeling, Gomez.”  
“Hurt me, Tish,” Gomez said with glee. “I’ll get the cat of nine tails!”  
There was a knock at the door, followed by Mama’s voice, interrupting the couple for the time being. “Are you both decent? The kids wanted to come say goodnight.”  
“Come in,” Morticia called as Gomez pouted.  
Wednesday and Pugsley rushed in, running over to give their parents a hug. “The movie was so funny!” Pugsley exclaimed.  
“And they gave us the burnt popcorn for half price!” Wednesday said happily.  
“Well it sounds like you three had a great time!” Gomez said, ruffling Pugsley’s hair.  
“But the whole time I was wondering about my prank,” Wednesday said. “Did Candy scream?”  
“Like a banshee,” Morticia said with a grin.  
“And she shot so high out of that seat I thought she would go through the ceiling!” Gomez added. “I really am sorry you missed it. I’ll video tape it next time!”  
Morticia was revolted by the thought of a next time.  
“I left a little surprise for her myself,” Mama said from the door with an eager grin. “In Fester’s bed.”  
“Mama,” Morticia said with intrigue. “Care to elaborate?”  
“All I’ll say is… it's moist.”  
Morticia resisted the urge to run over and hug her mother in law. She was also kicking herself for not thinking of that first. “Why don’t you both run along to bed? Your father and I will be in to say goodnight.”  
About ten minutes later, Morticia made her way into Wednesday’s room, finding her already in bed, playing with her headless dolls. “I keep laughing about this part in the movie,” Wednesday said with an eerie smile as Morticia sat beside her. “A man pulled out his own intestines.”  
“Well then, I’m certain you’ll have good dreams if that's what's on your mind,” Morticia said with a grin.   
“Oh, it will. I hope I scream.”  
Morticia busied herself tucking Wednesday in, wondering how to broach the next subject with her daughter, who was staring at her like she knew something was up. “Darling, I have something I want you to do for me on Monday.”  
Wednesday sighed. “I know, I know, you want me to be better for Miss Smith,” Wednesday said with thinly veiled disgust.  
Morticia shook her head, smoothing her hand down one of Wednesday’s braids. “On the contrary.” Morticia leaned in closer, a slightly evil glint in her dark eyes. “I want you to make that woman’s life a living hell.”  
“Really?” Wednesday said eagerly before her face fell. “But what if I get in trouble and have to do something like join the Girl Scouts again?”  
“Damn the consequences,” Morticia said with a wink. “Your father and I donate enough to that school to keep your nose clean, my darling. But don’t get used to that.”  
Wednesday threw her arms around Morticia’s neck. “I love you, Mother!”  
“And I love you. Now, go to sleep, dream of intestines.” She kissed Wednesday’s forehead. “See you in the morning.”  
“You hope,” Wednesday said eerily as Morticia closed the door.  
“You look quite chipper,” Gomez commented from his lounging spot on their bed as she walked into the room. “Did Candy fall through a trapdoor?”  
“Please, do not say that name again tonight,” Morticia said in a somewhat seductive tone, toying with the belt of her robe.  
Gomez raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Cara?”   
“Mon cher?”  
“Oof, Morticia, you know what you do when you talk like that.” He haphazardly tossed his cigar aside in anticipation.  
Morticia bit her lip and leaned back against the door. “And what is that, Gomez?”  
“Cara mia,” he groaned, clutching at the bed frame. “Are you going to stay against the door all night?”  
She shrugged, finally letting her robe fall. Gomez groaned again and was about to fling himself off the bed when Morticia shook her head. “Stay put.”  
“Tish…”   
She cocked her head to the side, crossing her arms over her barely covered chest. “Yes?”  
“I must have you,” he whispered, his voice quivering with emotion.   
“You must wait.”  
There was intense stare down between them as Morticia enjoyed the upper hand. No, what happened this evening wasn’t Gomez’s fault, but she still felt like punishing him. And she knew how much he enjoyed it, so why not?  
“Evil temptress,” he hissed as she continued to stay a painful ten feet away from him.  
“You flatter me, mon sauvage.”   
He let out a low growl. “Morticia… please!”  
She took one, small step forward. “Please what? You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”  
“Please come here,” he said through gritted teeth. “I am in agony.”  
Morticia smirked. “Agony over what? Agony over the fact that you are still in your smoking jacket?”  
In a flourish, Gomez pulled off his jacket and threw it dangerously close to the fireplace. “There! It's gone!”  
“Oh, well then, you should feel much better,” Morticia teased. “Perhaps I’ll go read Lurch a bedtime story, since you seem to be well sated.”   
“Do not step one foot outside of that door, Morticia,” Gomez warned, an edge in his voice.  
Morticia raised an eyebrow at him and took a step back. “Or what?”  
“Or I will strap you to the bed.”  
Morticia was hoping he didn’t notice the shiver that ran through her. “But how could you when you’re over there and I’m over here?”  
“You are playing a dangerous game, querida,” Gomez said, his eyes wild. “Come over here.”  
Morticia put her hand on the door knob. “Are you in any position to be making demands, Gomez?” She turned the knob slightly, enough so that the sound of the latch clicking echoed through the room. “Maybe I’m hungry and would like to go get a snack.”  
“In your lingerie? Gad, that's French!”  
“A crepe does sound rather tasty,” she whispered.  
“Morticia.”  
“Gomez.”   
“If you leave, I can’t promise what you’ll walk into when you come back,” Gomez said, subtly inching off the bed.   
“If you get off that bed I can’t promise that I’ll come back,” Morticia countered, loving every moment of this torture she was inflicting on her husband. Her sadistic side was out in full force tonight, and he was loving it as much as she was.  
“Come away from the door, Tish. What if Pugsley is sleepwalking again?”  
“Darling, that was you with the sleepwalking problem. You stole thousands of dollars worth of property.”  
“And I would steal thousands more to touch you right now,” he said desperately, driving his fingers through his hair.  
Taking pity on him, Morticia shut the door and turned the lock for good measure, even though everyone in the Addams household knew better than to come into their room without knocking, and then knocking again, then calling out who was at the door and getting a verbal confirmation that it was alright to come inside.  
“I don’t know, Gomez,” Morticia sighed, finally walking over to the bed. “The thought of another woman with her hands all over you.” She roughly grabbed his chin and tilted his head back so she could see his neck in the firelight. “Leaving her claw marks on you. It's put an awful pit in my heart.”  
“Querida,” he hissed, gripping her hips tightly in his hands. “You are the only woman for me. I could never want another, for as long as I live. For as long as I’m dead. For as long as my restless soul wanders the earth, I shall never want another.”  
Morticia fake pouted, trying to hide how very touched she was by the sentiment. “Oh, Gomez, if only there was some way to rid the traces of her ever having been near you…”  
He slid his hands up her back, stopping to unclasp her bra in record time. “I have an idea, cara mia.” He tossed the discarded bit of lace dangerously close to the fire once again, as was his habit.   
Morticia grabbed his wrists, keeping his hands from moving forward. “I think I have a better one.”  
“Which is?”  
“My, my, aren’t we impatient?” Morticia said with a tisk.  
“Very.”   
“Lay down,” she ordered, very much enjoying the annoyed huff that escaped his lips as he did as he was told. She climbed over him, straddling his thighs and pinning his hands over his head.  
“Morticia, please! You sadistic, enticing, wicked-”  
“Keep going.”   
He grinned wildly. “Dark mistress of pleasure.”  
“Darling, you say the kindest things,” Morticia said with a smirk. “Now, have you suffered enough?”  
“Yes!” he cried, arching his back off the bed.  
If she was honest, the anticipation was killing her as well. “Fine,” she whispered before kissing him. “Touch me, Gomez.”  
She released his hands and within that same second, he had them flipped so she was trapped beneath him. “Oh how the tables have turned, cara mia.” His hands were all over her, working very quickly to remove what little clothing was left between them. “And I don’t have your threshold for patience.”  
“We balance each other so well, my darling,” Morticia said, pulling him down into a deep kiss. “I’m cold, and you’re oh so-”  
“-hot,” he hissed against her mouth.  
“Hot, and mine.”  
“Yours and only yours.”   
“Forever.”  
“Our bodies rotting together for eternity.”  
“That's the kind of end I can comprehend.”


	10. The Fight

Lazy Sundays meant normal, mundane things in the Addams household. Sword fighting down the staircase, Pugsley catching Wednesday in a clever rope trap, Lurch taking some time to himself in the dungeon, a slut named Candy barging in on Gomez’s shower.  
“Candy!” he yelped, tossing the bar of soap up in the air out of shock. “What are you doing here?”  
“Finishing what I started last night,” she said, taking off her robe and tossing it out of the shower.  
“No! God, no!” Gomez yelled, slapping a hand over his eyes. “Get out of my shower, Candy!”  
“No, I don’t think I will.”  
“Morti-” Gomez started to yell, but Candy slapped her hand over his mouth.  
“Don’t even think about yelling for your wife,” Candy warned, forcing Gomez back against the black tile.  
“This is assault! I am a lawyer, you know!” Gomez said, slipping past her and out of the shower. He quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and bolted toward the door, leaving a trail of soap suds behind him.  
Gomez ran into the bedroom, nearly smacking into Morticia. “Darling, what are you doing?”  
“Candy is in there!” Gomez whispered. “She came in my shower!”  
Morticia’s eyes grew dark and cold as she slowly crossed her arms. “Oh did she?”  
“Yes! She tried to seduce me again!” Gomez cried, flicking soap out of his mustache.  
In an eerily calm manor, Morticia placed her hand on his chest and walked toward the bathroom. Gomez watched with wide eyes, cautiously following behind her as she walked in.   
“Oh, I see you wised up,” Candy said before she realized who it was that walked in.  
“And what did I have to wise up about, Candy?” Morticia asked, shutting the door before Gomez could walk in as well.   
Candy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Mor-Morticia! Hi! Oh my God, did I goof? Am I in your bathroom?” She scrambled to pull her robe back on, having enough decency to look embarrassed.   
Morticia was alarmingly quiet for a full minute as she contemplated her next move, keeping Candy squirming like a worm on a hook. “Of course, this house can be quite confusing for an outsider.”  
Candy relaxed and let out a laugh. “It sure can be! I think I might have scared poor Gomez.”  
“I’m sure he’ll recover. My husband doesn’t scare easily.”  
“Oh? Because he was very jumpy.”  
Morticia slowly raised an eyebrow. “Shall I have Lurch show you to Uncle Fester’s bathroom? Or the door, perhaps?”  
“No, no need, Tishy, thanks. I’ll find it myself,” Candy said, awkwardly slipping past Morticia to get to the door. “How hard could it be?”  
“Apparently very,” Morticia said flatly.  
Morticia watched to make sure Candy actually left before letting out an angry huff and throwing one of the bed pillows across the room. Gomez cautiously crawled out from under the bed, glancing around the room to make sure the coast was clear. “At this rate I’m going to have to bolt down the furniture.”  
Morticia shook her head, sitting down roughly on the bed. “The audacity.”   
“I’m surprised she left with all her limbs still intact,” Gomez said as he walked toward the closet. “I at least expected her to be limping.”  
“I’m playing the long game here, Gomez,” Morticia said through gritted teeth.  
“You still don’t have a plan?”  
“No, I do not. Yet.” She stood and started pacing. “Yet…”   
“You know how quickly bodies sink in the swamp,” Gomez called from the closet. “Problem solved!”  
“Tempting.” She stopped pacing and faced her husband, who was now thankfully fully clothed. Not thankful for Morticia’s sake, however. “Darling are you alright? Did she do anything to you?”  
Gomez smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “You are so wonderful to be concerned for me. She couldn’t get her hands on me! I was too swift! My body is repulsed by the thought of anyone other than you, querida mia!” He pulled her into a tight embrace.  
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said, stroking his cheek. “Now, why don’t we go have breakfast while we know Candy won’t be down to spoil it?”  
“Excellent idea, and we can plot her demise in peace!”  
They settled in at the dining room table, blissfully alone to do just as Gomez had suggested. Morticia sighed, resting her chin in her hand, drumming her fork against the table. “You could wear a body camera.”  
“Why?”  
“So we have proof of her trying to seduce you, darling.”  
Gomez frowned as he considered this. “No, that would be too difficult, especially if she pulls my jacket off again.”  
Morticia stabbed roughly at the food on her plate. “Hussy.”   
“Cara mia, why don’t we simply tell Fester?” Gomez suggested. “You know that I am not the one seducing her, and that is the only thing she is holding over me.”  
“You know our family credo, Gomez. We would gladly feast on those who would subdue us.”  
“Yes, of course.”  
“Well, I’m hungry,” Morticia said fiercely, once again stabbing at her plate.   
Gomez reached over and took her hand, kissing it softly. “Morticia, mia, don’t work yourself up like this. That's my job.”  
She smiled at him, realizing how tense this was all making her. “You’re right. I’ve been letting this problem dictate my life. Why don’t we take a walk through the graveyard? Just us?”  
“A capital idea!” Gomez said, leaping to his feet. “The day is so humid and disgustingly muggy, it's perfect for a stroll!”  
And perfect it was, Morticia decided, as they made their way hand in hand through the tombstones of the family graveyard. The hot, damp weather set just the right romantic ambiance, and the only sounds to disturb them were that of the crows cawing loudly from their various perches. Morticia leaned her head against Gomez’s shoulder, sighing in contentment.  
“Happy, my darling?” Gomez murmured, placing a kiss on the top of her head.  
“Dreadfully so.”  
“I always have such fond memories here, especially of how we met,” Gomez reminisced fondly. “You looked so glorious, sitting against Cousin Balthazar’s headstone, reading Poe instead of getting wasted at the party.”  
Morticia turned to face him, able to smile about it all now that they had been happily married for 13 years. “You stole my breath instantly. I knew from the second I got a waft of your cigar smoke that I would be yours forever. In spite of the bumps in the road.”  
“Darling, Ophelia isn’t a bump in the road,” Gomez laughed. “Is she? We haven’t seen her in quite some time…”  
“No, I’m sure my sister is above ground,” Morticia said, but there wasn’t much confidence in her voice.  
Gomez shrugged. “Either way, it all worked out in the end, as it does when two people are so meant to be.”  
Morticia smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you, Gomez.”  
“And I love you, my darling Tish.”  
Before Gomez could kiss her, an idea struck Morticia like a bolt of lightning. “We should fight!”  
Gomez leaned back, slightly taken aback. “Like fencing? We can go do that… if that's what you want. I kind of thought we had other plans for this afternoon.”  
“No, darling, I mean pretend! In front of Candy and Fester,” Morticia said eagerly. “Then I’ll storm out and get Fester to follow me. I’m assuming Candy will pounce, then I’ll get Fester to go back in the room and hopefully catch her in the act. It will be better than us flat out telling him, and hopefully it will humiliate Candy in the process.”  
“So you’re past wanting to cause her some kind of pain?” Gomez laughed.  
“No. But I have Wednesday on it…”  
“Well then I think it's worth a shot,” Gomez said supportively. “Though I loath the thought of arguing with you.”  
“As do I, but it will only be fake,” Morticia reassured. “I could never be angry with you.”  
“Then let's go nip this in the butt and get on with our lives.” Gomez extended his arm to her.  
“Darling, it's bud,” Morticia said gently. “Nip it in the bud.”  
“I like my way better,” he said before playfully pinching Morticia’s butt.  
“Your way is rather appealing.”

….  
Because Candy was an irritating imp, she had made herself at home in the Addams house. This however was going to serve well for Gomez and Morticia’s plan. The four of them were gathered in the living room while the children were off playing somewhere far away, thankfully keeping them away from the pretend fight that was about to go down.   
Morticia glanced over at where Fester and Candy were sickly entwined with each other, eating from the same piece of cactus. Gomez winked at his wife before going into a headstand, ready to out the fraud before them. Morticia dramatically threw her knitting to the ground and let out an exasperated huff.  
“Must you always stand on your head?” she asked, trying to force some venom into her voice. In truth, she found her husband’s zen yogi habits completely endearing, but these were serious times.  
Gomez jumped back to his feet, holding out his arms in confusion. “What's wrong with me standing on my head? It's relaxing!”  
“The top of your head is getting flat!” Morticia cried. “None of your hats fit!”  
They had Fester and Candy’s attention at this point. Never once had Fester ever seen the couple so much as bicker about something, let alone have a full blown argument.   
“I knew you only liked me for my looks,” Gomez sneered, crossing his arms.  
“Oh, yes, that bushy moustache really does it for me,” Morticia spat, crossing her arms as well.  
Gomez, with hurt shock in his eyes, reached up to touch his mustache, which was actually very well groomed and not at all bushy. “Yeah? Well you think you looking so beautiful all the time works for me?”  
Morticia shot him a look, thinking perhaps they should have rehearsed a bit before this. “Gomez.”  
His eyes flashed with recognition. “Oh, right! What I meant was, I find… I think… you spend too much time feeding your silly plant!”  
“Yeah? Well if I have to sit through another train explosion, I’ll explode!” Morticia yelled.  
Fester stared at them both in shock. Never once in his life had he heard Morticia’s voice raise above a speaking tone. Well, except for when he had made the mistake of wandering too close to their room one night. Those were sounds Fester never wanted to hear ever again, and they haunted him to his very core.  
Gomez made some kind of noise of annoyance. “You like Cleopatra more than you like me, admit it, Morticia! You think your plant strangles better than I do!”  
Morticia crossed her arms even tighter against her chest. “When did this become about Cleopatra?” she said coldly. “You’ve always been oddly jealous of her. You were all too eager to rip her apart that time you thought she swallowed Pugsley!”  
Gomez took a step forward, pointing an accusing finger at Morticia. “You would have been just fine if that thing swallowed our son! If it swallowed me!”  
Morticia rolled her eyes. “You’re always so focused on swallowing, Gomez.”  
Fester and Candy both inhaled sharply at the lewd comment. Gomez’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. It was all he could do to not lunge across the room and start kissing her arm right that second.  
“Well God forbid I get my way in the bedroom every once in a while!” he fired back. “It's always Morticia this and Morticia that! Morticia, Morticia, Morticia!”  
“Well it's Gomez, Gomez, Gomez everywhere else!” Morticia yelled, throwing her hands up.  
“Marcia, Marcia, Marcia,” Gomez said, not realizing his error. That one episode of the Brady Bunch he was forced to watch really scarred his subconscious.  
“Marcia?” Candy asked.  
“Oh, is she one of your floozies?” Morticia cried, flinging a throw pillow in his direction.  
“Well someone has to take care of Gomez in the bedroom!” he shouted, smacking a vase of rose stems off the table. It landed on the floor and shattered, the noise echoing around them.  
This put the final nail in their charade coffin. Morticia screamed through her teeth before storming to the door. “You can go sleep at Marcia’s house tonight, you man whore!” she slammed the door, which rattled the various knick knacks in the living room.  
Gomez made a show of collapsing into a chair once she was gone, covering his face with his hands. He sighed loudly and sniffled a bit, hoping that ordeal wasn’t all for nothing. He peaked out between his fingers to see Fester and Candy staring at him with awestruck expressions.  
“I, um, I better go make sure Morticia is okay,” Fester said awkwardly, excusing himself from the tension filled room.  
“Yes, of course, go!” Gomez said dramatically. “I’ll be here, wallowing in my sorrow.”  
As Fester left, Gomez slid dramatically to the floor, throwing his arm over his eyes. He let out a low moan, hoping he looked pathetic enough to get Candy to pounce. And she did not waste a second, climbing over Gomez and sitting herself down on top of him. He tried not to groan in pain. Candy was far heavier than he was used to with Morticia, not that he would ever say that out loud. Well, he’d probably tell Morticia that later, if only to see her smile with evil delight.  
“Poor thing,” Candy pouted, pulling his arm away from his face. “I think I know how to make it better.”  
Gomez frowned, looking anxiously at the door. When was Morticia going to come back? Why didn’t they plan this better? “I don’t think you can!” he cried woefully. “I’m too distraught!”  
“Oh, poor wittle Mezzy,” Candy cooed in a sickening baby voice that made Gomez’s skin crawl. She started stroking his mustache in a weird and obscene way. “Let Candy help.”  
Gomez choked down the bile rising in his throat. “I’ve hurt Morticia enough!”  
“Then let's hurt her some more!” Candy said before smashing her lips against Gomez’s.

…   
Just as she had planned, Fester quickly caught up to Morticia in the hall. She forced a distraught look to her face, her lower lip quivering as Fester gave her an awkward hug. “Are you okay, Morticia?”  
“Oh… I’ll be fine, I suppose,” Morticia sighed, pulling a silk hanky from her sleeve to dab at her eyes.   
“You and Gomez never fight,” Fester said with concern. “It's slightly alarming, to be frank. But that was just disturbing in there.”  
Morticia shrugged, still playing up the crushing sadness. “I just want to be alone right now, Uncle Fester. Why don’t you go back in there to Candy? This must be terribly awkward for her. Go in and assure her that love isn’t dead. I’ll be fine.”  
Fester frowned. “Are you sure?”  
“Yes, completely. Go, I need to lie down.”  
Fester nodded and they went their separate ways, until Fester opened the door. Morticia hung back to see what was going on inside, only to be shocked and disappointed in a weird way. Gomez was laying forlornly on the floor, and Candy was sitting in a chair. Not making a move on her husband.  
“What?” Morticia hissed as Fester closed the door, feeling utterly befuddled. So that whole ordeal was all for naught, leaving Morticia with a slight hole in her chest and even more angst than when she woke up this morning. Normally it would be pleasant, but not today.


	11. Full Disclosure

An hour later, Gomez found Morticia sitting on the stone steps outside of the conservatory, hugging her knees as she watched the vultures circle in the air. He sighed and sat down beside her, gently putting his arm around her as he took a drag from his cigar. “I’m not jealous of Cleopatra,” he said softly.  
“I don’t think you’re a man whore,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.  
“I definitely don’t think you’re a selfish lover.”  
Morticia’s alabaster cheeks took on a slight pink hue. “And I don’t mind…”  
“No, I know you don’t,” Gomez said with a slight laugh before kissing her temple.   
“I hate that we fought for nothing,” Morticia sighed, staring forlornly at the dead grass stretching out in front of them.  
“Oh no, my dearest, your plan worked. Candy just moves very quickly…”  
Slowly, Morticia turned to look at him, raising a shapely eyebrow. “It worked?”  
Gomez nodded, his eyes wide as he took a long drag. “She kissed me.”  
Morticia yanked Gomez’s cigar from his mouth and flung it across the yard. “Skank.”   
“Tish,” Gomez said with amusement, pulling out another cigar. “Your jealousy is very endearing. And I would have pushed her away but I thought that was the whole point! But she heard Fester outside and was back in her chair by the time he came in.”  
Morticia frowned, hating the jealousy that surged through her. “Now what?”  
Gomez sighed, resting his chin in his hand. “Now what?”  
Morticia slowly straightened, the tiniest of smiles tugging at her ruby lips. “Gomez…”  
“Yeah?”  
She turned to him, her smile growing. “Full disclosure.”   
Gomez snapped, his eyes wide with delight. “Full disclosure!”   
“If she doesn’t out herself first, you will!” Morticia exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders. “This is foolproof!”  
“Just one problem,” Gomez said. “We’re a bunch of fools.”  
Morticia considered this for a second before brushing it off. “It's fine, it's fine, it will work. It has to.”  
“It really has to, because as far as everyone else knows we’re still fighting.”  
“Oh, I hate this,” Morticia groaned, rubbing her forehead.   
“Eh?” Gomez nudged her shoulder, pulling a pistol out of his jacket with a wide grin.  
“No, no,” she said, pushing the gun away. “It's very tempting, but we shouldn’t stoop to violence.”  
“But Tish,” Gomez whined. “I love stooping to violence.”  
“I am well aware,” she said, patting his cheek. “Well, should we go back inside? Maybe make up in front of anyone so we don’t have to go on with this?”  
“In a moment,” Gomez said, pulling her into his lap. “Why don't we enjoy the solitude out here for a while?”  
“Just one thing,” Morticia said, putting her finger against his lips. “I just can’t seem to get over the fact that you nearly let The Brady Bunch be our undoing.”  
Gomez’s face flushed, his hands moving wildly as he tried to explain himself. “Morticia and Marcia both start with M! Also, you both have a c that sounds like it should be an sh!”  
“Oh, my darling,” Morticia said with amusement, patting his cheek. “Tell me honestly, when we first met, how did you think I spelled my name?”  
“I plead the fifth,” Gomez said stubbornly, focusing all his attention on Morticia’s shoulder instead of her face.  
“Oh, Gomez, you thought it was M-O-R-T-I-S-H-A, didn’t you?”  
“For, like, one day!” he cried, throwing his hands up in defeat.  
Morticia couldn’t help but laugh as she kissed his cheek. “You’ve completely brought gloom back into my day. Thank you so much.”  
“I am smart,” he said insistently.  
“Of course you are, darling.”  
“Hey, I passed the bar!”  
Morticia grinned, pressing her forehead against his. “I think you are brilliant, Gomez, and I mean that wholeheartedly.”   
“Thank you!”  
“You’re welcome. Now, what were you saying about enjoying the solitude?”  
“You’re lucky I completely adore you, querida mia.”

…  
“This is the sacred chalice, from Addams family's past!” Gomez bellowed, standing abruptly from the dinner table, holding up the cup for Full Disclosure. “Firm in my digitalis, held fast, die cast!”  
“What is he doing?” Candy asked, looking around the table. “Why is he singing?”  
“Here in this sweet libation, salvation resides! Feel the sweet sensation, revelation provides! Full disclosure it's a game that we play, let your darkest secrets give you away!” Gomez continued singing, much to Candy’s dismay and confusion. “Face your demons and then happily say, I’m playing full disclosure with all these crazy happy people!”  
“It's fun,” Wednesday said flatly.  
“I can’t wait until we’re old enough!” Pugsley exclaimed. “I have a lot of things I want to say.”  
“I’ll go!” Mama screeched from across the table, nearly jumping from her seat.  
“Querida, pass the chalice to Mama, por favore,” Gomez said sweetly before kissing Morticia’s hand.  
“So, you two have made up?” Candy said somewhat tensley.   
“Hmm?”  
“Your fight.”  
Both Gomez and Morticia’s eyes widened. “Right! We did!” Gomez said loudly. “How can I stand to be cross with a creature such as this?”  
“Excuse me, it is my Full Disclosure time!” Mama said huffily, taking the cup from Morticia. She took a long sip and held it up with pride. “I… have been sleeping with my new weed guy. Full Disclosure!”  
Crickets followed. Literally, there was a cricket somewhere in the Addams dining room. Morticia thought it added a nice ambiance. Eventually, Pugsley spoke first. “Are you sharing?”  
“Pugsley!” Morticia gasped. “You are ten years old!”  
“Your mother is right, Pugsley,” Gomez said sternly. “Wait until you’re eleven.”  
“To smoke weed?” Candy gasped.  
Gomez shrugged. “Mama is the family pothead, but we like to give our children the freedom to choose their own bad habits.”  
“You’re such a good father, Gomez,” Candy said, making Morticia seethe with anger.  
“I’ll go,” Morticia said, standing abruptly and taking the cup. Her eyes lingered on Candy, taking a moment to not let her anger get the best of her. Candy thought she was oblivious, so oblivious she would remain. “One time when I was five and Ophelia was six, our parents took us to Disneyworld and… I didn’t hate it. I rather enjoyed the Haunted Mansion ride. But then I tried to push Ophelia off the Jungle Cruise and my parents didn’t let me go back on it for the rest of the trip. Full Disclosure.”   
“Shocking, Mother,” Wednesday said.  
Morticia shrugged as she looked around the room. “Anyway, Candy, would you care to go next?”  
Apprehensively, Candy reached across the table for the cup. “So… I take a sip and reveal a deep, dark secret?”  
“Uh huh,” Gomez said excitedly, nodding his head. “Something no one knows. Something salacious.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.   
Candy shrugged and took a sip. Morticia held her breath in anticipation, hoping the truth was about to spill out. “Alrightie, well, Morticia…”  
“Yes?” Morticia eagerly leaned across the table.  
“I used to be terrified of you. Like, I really thought you were some inhuman being haunting me with your eerie offspring. But now that I know you, I really admire you. Not only are you a wonderful mother, you’re also total wife goals. I only hope I can be like you when the time finally comes that I get married. You’re just so flawless. Full Disclosure.”  
Morticia wanted to stab a fungus covered stick through her eye. How could Candy be so fake? She was lying through her teeth, violating the rules of Full Disclosure! However, Morticia kept her composure and smiled. “That was nice of you to say, Candy. Perhaps now you should pass the chalice to Gomez.”  
“No! My turn!” Fester cried, reaching for the cup.  
“Fester, please, I really wanted to go,” Gomez said desperately, putting his knee on the table to get closer to the chalice.  
“No, this is important!” Fester yelled, also getting on the table.  
“No, no, I am the matriarch of this house!”  
“Patriarch, dear.”  
“Patriarch! I demand to go next!” Gomez moved rather ungracefully across the table.  
“Dad’s flipped,” Pugsley said with amusement.  
“Pugsley!” Morticia said in a scolding voice before saying, “perhaps you’re right.”  
“Don’t be selfish, Gomez!” Fester said as he scootched across the table like a dog with worms.  
“This table doesn’t seem that long,” Wednesday commented. “Yet it is taking them an extremely long time to reach each other.”   
“Mine!” Fester screeched, yanking the cup away from Candy and taking a sip. Gomez sighed in defeat, slumping into a bowl of soup. “Candy, these past few days have been nothing but pure bliss. Like a long soak in the swamp on a rainy night! I never want it to end.”  
“Oh no,” Morticia gasped.  
“Aye dios mios!” Gomez hissed, clutching at his hair.   
“He better not,” Wednesday said, grabbing her knife.  
“Candy, I want you to marry me! Full Disclosure!” Fester said with a wide grin, looking hopefully at Candy who was sitting there in stunned silence.  
The whole family watched in shock, no one daring to say another word before Candy answered. Even Lurch stuck his head back in the room with Thing on his shoulder, waiting to hear her answer. She had to say no, she just had to. There was no way she would take this charade that far!  
“Yes!” Candy squealed, clapping her hands together.  
“What?” the entire family said in unison.  
“Oh, Candy! Let's go dig up Grandmama’s ring!” Fester exclaimed, taking Candy’s hand and pulling her out of the room before anyone had a chance to say anything.  
Gomez sighed, taking a sip from the discarded chalice as the door slammed shut. “Candy has been trying to seduce me for some reason. Full Disclosure,” he said glumly, resting his chin in his hand.  
“Too late now,” Morticia said darkly, sinking into her seat and taking a long sip from her wine glass.  
“Why didn’t you tell us Fester’s girl was a floozy?” Mama asked, clearly upset about being left out of the secret.  
“Because we wanted Fester to, A; believe us, and B; not get hurt,” Gomez said, reaching for a fried bat wing from the plate beside his foot. “If we told anyone else, we risked the secret getting out. No offense, Mama, but you can’t keep a secret for two seconds.”  
“Well, now that we all know, what are we going to do about it?” Morticia asked. “We can’t let Fester marry her.”  
“Let's kill her,” Wednesday suggested.  
“No, it would be too obvious,” Gomez said dismissively.   
Wednesday glared at her father. “Not if we make it look like an accident.”  
“I could leave a roller skate at the top of the stairs!” Pugsley happily suggested.  
“Darling, you don’t own a roller skate,” Morticia pointed out.  
“I could.” Pugsley looked from side to side. “I know a guy.”  
“No outsiders!” Mama said loudly.  
“Mama is right, the less people involved the better,” Gomez said as he finally got off the table.  
“What's sad is… we would have come to accept her,” Morticia said quietly. “If she genuinely loved Fester.”  
“True! We could have learned to live with all her pink, floral dresses!” Gomez agreed.  
“But she’s a whore,” Mama stated.  
“Ha, whore,” Pugsley said, earning a sharp look from Morticia.  
“We don’t have to name call,” Morticia said, still glaring at her son, even though she agreed. “What we do need to do is come up with a way to tell Fester before things get out of hand.”  
“Truth?” Lurch grumbled.  
“Ha! What would the truth do? It might drive him away again!” Gomez cried as he walked around to stand behind Morticia. “Dear God, it's the Amore twins all over again!”  
There was a pause. “That would make him your brother…” Morticia said thoughtfully.  
“Morticia, just confront Candy!” Mama said like it was obvious.  
“Tish has been having fun toying with her,” Gomez laughed as he pulled a cigar out of the front of Morticia’s dress.  
“But I am one ‘Tishy’ away from setting her on fire,” Morticia grumbled, rubbing her temples.  
“She called me Mezzy the other day.”  
Morticia gagged.  
Thing hopped up on the table and mimed eye scratching.   
“Be my guest, Thing,” Gomez said.  
Thing flashed a thumbs up in response.  
“Messing with her has been somewhat satisfying,” Morticia admitted. “Perhaps…”  
“Perhaps?” Gomez said, leaning over her chair.  
“Perhaps I could get rather into this… fake friendship. Get to her that way.” Morticia stood, an eerie smile stretching across her face. “Yes.”   
“Mother has an evil plan,” Wednesday said with her own eerie smile.   
“That's the face she made when she let Kitty chase the Trump campaigners!” Pugsley said with a laugh.  
“When she let Kitty eat the Trump campaigners,” Wednesday corrected.  
“Just remember, children, that can’t be proven,” Gomez said.  
“We know,” they responded in unison.  
“Good, go play a bit before bed. But stay out of the graveyard! I don’t want you seeing what might be happening between Fester and Candy out there.”  
Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Yes, because you and Mother are so subtle.”  
“The difference is your father and I love each other,” Morticia said flatly. “Now go play, please.”  
The children ran off, shouting violent threats happily at each other. Mama stood and loudly cracked her back with a groan. “I’m going to turn in as well. All this plotting is wearing me out. Come on, Lurch! You can strap me to the rack!” Lurch and Thing followed her out, leaving the couple alone.  
“She is going to smoke pot,” Gomez said once they were out of ear shot.  
“Obviously.”  
“But what does she need Lurch for then?” Gomez questioned, absentmindedly rubbing Morticia’s shoulders.  
“Darling, Lurch and Mama smoke together.”  
“Are you serious?”  
There was a pause before Morticia let out a loud laugh. “Of course not! Could you imagine?”  
“No!” Gomez cried, moving around to face her. “Lurch is so slow on a normal basis!” Morticia laughed again, which made Gomez’s face break out into an enormous smile. “It's great to see you like this, querida.”  
“Then why don’t we keep the party going upstairs?” she said with a suggestive quirk of her eyebrow.  
Gomez growled with a grin before sweeping her off her feet. “Say no more, cara mia.”


	12. Does this fall under Maid of Honor Duties?

“Morticia! Tishy! Tishy, Tishy, Tishy!” Candy’s piercing voice broke through the walls of Morticia and Gomez’s bedroom.  
Morticia growled through her teeth, slapping the riding crop against her palm. “I just want a moment of peace.”  
“Better go see what she wants,” Gomez sighed.  
Morticia rolled her eyes, grabbing her robe. “Don’t go anywhere.”  
Gomez looked at the restraints holding him against the wall. “No worries there.”  
Morticia pulled her silk robe up over her shoulders before cracking the door open just enough to see outside. “Candy, isn’t it late?”  
“I’m sorry, I was just so excited,” Candy gushed. Morticia noticed the dirt smudges on her knees and the hem of her dress as well as the still dirty emerald ring on her finger. “Can I come in?”  
Candy tried to give the door a shove, but Morticia stopped her. “That probably isn’t a good idea. I have Gomez a bit… tied up at the moment.”  
Candy’s eyes flicked down to the riding crop Morticia was still holding. “Oh… oh.”  
“Yes.”  
“Okay, um, well, I was hoping that maybe you would be my maid of honor?” Candy said with a squeak. “I don’t have any sisters or anything.”  
“I don’t… I don’t know what a maid of honor is,” Morticia said, looking at Candy like she was slighlty insane.  
Candy was clearly taken aback. “You don’t know what a maid of honor is? Didn’t you have one at your wedding?”  
Morticia slowly shook her head.  
“Well, it's a person that does a lot to help the bride out. And you would stand beside me on the altar too! You know, things like planning the bachelorette party, going dress shopping, cake testing.”  
“Cake testing?” Morticia gasped in horror. “Dress shopping?”   
“Yes! We’re going to have so much fun!” Candy all but shrieked. “Are you in?”  
As torturous as this concept sounded, it would give Morticia more time to properly drive Candy away from Fester and possibly even the tri state area. So, Morticia smiled graciously at the woman she despised and said, “I’d be delighted to be your maid of honor.”  
“Oh goodie!” Candy started clapping. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you to… whatever you were doing.”  
“Having sex.”  
“Right.”  
“With my husband.”  
“Yes, Gomez, your husband.”  
“Indeed,” Morticia said darkly, narrowing her eyes at Candy. She started to slowly shut the door. “Goodnight, Candy.” Morticia locked the door and turned back to her husband, rolling her eyes.   
Gomez laughed. “Morticia the maid of honor.”  
“If I have to put on a pastel dress…”  
“Darling, it won’t be pastel! It will be bubblegum pink!” Gomez cried with barely contained laughter.  
“You are nude and strapped to a wall, do you really want to be teasing me right now?”  
“Yes.”  
Morticia raised an eyebrow. “Naughty.”   
“Yes.”  
“Oh, you are in for a night, mon cher.”  
“Tish, that's French!”

…   
“Oh, Morticia, this was such a great idea,” Candy said happily, settling herself on the stool in front of Morticia’s vanity.   
Morticia grabbed her hair straightener, snapping it behind Candy’s head. “Just doing my part as your maid of honor. If you’re going to be an Addams, you might as well look like one.”  
Candy’s face blanched momentarily. “What exactly does that mean?”  
Morticia shrugged, a sly smile on her face. “Just relax and let me work my magic.” It's not like you can look any worse, Morticia thought, but restrained from saying out loud.   
“You know what, Morticia?” Candy said with excitement, bouncing on the stool. “We should go out for drinks after this! Oh, and you should let me give you a makeover too!”  
Thinking of nothing but the big picture, Morticia had to reluctantly agree. “Sure, sounds… fun.”  
“Oh goodie!”  
Morticia went about straightening Candy’s wavy blonde hair, all the while thinking about burning at least a strand off. The thought was rather tempting as she watched the smoke curl up and away from her head. “I can’t even begin to describe how happy Fester is.”  
Candy, Morticia was starting to learn, was not a good liar. She looked down at the vanity, fidgeting with her horn rimmed glasses. “I can assure you I’m just as excited. Maybe even more!”  
“You should consider yourself very lucky that Fester has finally decided to settle down. He would go through women like tissues. It was hard to keep track, a new woman each week,” Morticia lied. Unlike Candy, it was something Morticia was rather good at.  
“Really?” Candy asked in disbelief.  
“Yes. Gomez had a talk with him not long ago about the womanizing. It was getting out of hand.” Morticia shook her head. “He could have any woman he wants. But he chose you.”  
“I’m not sure I love how you said that…”  
“I’m merely praising you! And underneath it all, Fester is such a kind soul. Very sensitive too. Why, I remember his first serious crush. She cheated on him and Lurch had to pull him back from the ledge of the tower.”  
Candy swallowed loudly. “He tried to kill himself?”  
“Oh yes. And that's when the womanizing began. But now, he is back to being that sensitive sweetheart we’ve come to loathe.”   
“You mean love?”  
“That too.”  
Candy frowned and started picking at her pink nails. “Goodness, Morticia. I didn’t know about all that.”  
“It's nothing for you to worry about,” Morticia said reassuringly, putting the hot straightener down a bit too close to Candy’s hand. “You would never betray Fester.”  
“Ye-yes, you’re right.”  
“Oh, I shouldn’t even tell you about the Amore twins,” Morticia said offhandedly as she picked up a smokey eyeshadow pallet. “That was a tragic fiasco. And not in a fun way.”  
“Amore twins?”  
“To make a long story short, it ended with Fester absconding to the Bermuda Triangle for years, only to come back with amnesia. The man has not been lucky in love.” Morticia spun Candy around so she was facing her. “He is so lucky to have you now.”  
Candy was silent as Morticia did her makeup. She was clearly distressed, which, of course, was the plan all along. That, mixed with the impromptu makeover, was sure to push Candy over the edge. Either that, or Candy would be guilted into genuinely loving Fester and accept the fact that everyone looks better in black. It was a win win either way.  
“Now, I don’t think I have any clothes that will work on you…” Morticia said thoughtfully.  
“We’re doing clothes too?”  
“Hold on, I might have something…” Morticia walked back to her closet while Candy took in her dark makeup and straight hair in the mirror.  
In the way back of the walk-in closet, Morticia found the box her maternity clothes were stored in. She grabbed a dress and quickly walked back out to where Candy was balking at the mirror. She held the dress out as Candy slowly turned to look at it.  
“It's so black. And tight.”  
“It's not that tight, it is a mat-” Morticia caught herself at the last moment. She may hate Candy, but she didn’t want to body shame her. “It's a more loose fitting dress. I think you’ll like it.”  
“Well, I’ll try it. As long as I get to pick out your outfit!”  
“That's only fair,” Morticia said tensley.  
Candy beamed and took the dress, disappearing into the bathroom to change. Morticia took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare for whatever Candy was going to do to her. At least Candy was going to look somewhat decent. Morticia was almost shocked when Candy came out of the bathroom. She looked normal for once.  
“Wow, I did a wonderful job,” Morticia said, circling Candy to get the full effect of the makeover. The dress was a bit tight, but it fit, and the hair and makeup looked wonderful. She could have passed for an Addams.  
“Yeah… okay, my turn!” Candy grabbed Morticia’s shoulders and sat her down at the vanity.  
By the time Candy was done, Morticia didn’t recognize herself. Her hair was pulled back into a bun with a few loose curls framing her face, which was practically naked. Gone was her winged eyeliner and red lipstick. Instead she only had on mascara and a light lip gloss.  
“Put this on!” Candy cried, shuffling out of the closet with a short, magenta dress that was a gift from Ophelia.   
“Very well.” Morticia took the dress, noticing that the tags were still on it.  
Fester really owes me for this, she thought bitterly as she examined herself in the mirror. She shuddered, feeling truly out of her element. And she had to go out in public like this? Perhaps a drink was in order…  
“Oh my gosh, Tishy!” Candy cried as Morticia walked out of the bathroom. “You look fabulous! Really! You don’t look like you should be haunting an old victorian manor or anything!”  
“Are you… are you trying to insult me?” Morticia asked.  
“God, no! Morticia, have you seen yourself?” Candy took her hand and pulled her to one of the full length mirrors in the room.  
“No, yeah, I got the picture.” Morticia tugged awkwardly at the silk sleeves, turning to examine her entire body. While the dress was tight and had a deep v cut, it wasn’t something Morticia would ever choose for herself. It just felt wrong.  
“Tish, have you seen my battle axe?” Gomez asked, wandering into the room. “Pugsley wanted to prank Wednes-” he stopped short upon seeing Morticia.   
She glared back at her husband as he gawked at her, daring him to say anything. “I think I saw your axe in the playroom.”  
“You’re wearing the dress Ophelia gave you,” Gomez stated, clearly confused.  
“Candy and I gave each other makeovers.” Morticia gestured to Candy, who was not so subtly making eyes at Gomez.   
Gomez, as always, only had eyes for his wife. “Your hair…”  
“Is up,” Morticia finished for him. “Yes, I know.”  
“Didn’t I do such a good job with her?” Candy squealed, once again putting her hands on Morticia’s shoulders. “We’re going out for drinks!”  
“Tish…”  
“We’re going,” Morticia said quickly, using an unusually sharp tone with Gomez. “I want Fester to see Candy before we leave.”  
“Morticia,” Gomez said, reaching for her hand. “I’m sure Candy can find Fester on her own.”  
Morticia looked away, a knot of nausea forming in her stomach. She quickly kissed his cheek and walked away. “I’ll see you tonight, my darling. Tell the children I said goodbye.”  
She left Gomez looking dejectedly in the doorway, feeling horrible for it. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the second she put that magenta dress on, all those feeling of insecurity and self doubt from high school came rushing back. The same feelings that forced her to become a cheerleader. She felt so out of place in fact, that she nearly felt guilty for trying to make over Candy. Almost.   
On the upside, Fester loved Candy’s makeover, and Morticia could tell all the praise from him was making Candy feel guilty. On the down side, Candy got a suspicious call on the drive to the bar, and Morticia was almost positive she heard Tully’s voice on the other end, which was making her think this ridiculous girl's day was all for naught.  
And as Morticia sat on the bar stool in the over crowded club, she was starting to think that maybe she should have just let Wednesday handle things with Candy. Her palms were slick as she gripped her wine glass, her heart pounding in her ears. Morticia took a gasping breath, inhaling the scent of sweat and cheap cologne, which only made her head spin more. She hadn’t felt this sick since she was pregnant with Pugsley and would have to spend most of the day in bed.  
Candy continued droning on about something that Morticia wasn’t listening to. A man slid behind her, unnecessarily touching her back as he went. The bar tender winked at her as he slid her another glass. She missed Gomez desperately and felt like a piranha out of water.  
“You’re getting so much attention, Tishy,” Candy whispered, wiggling her eyebrows.  
Morticia shook her head, trying to appear normal. “I don’t want their attention.”  
“Why not? You’re married, not buried,” Candy giggled, slapping Morticia’s thigh. “You can flirt a little.”  
Morticia shook her head again. “No thank you.”  
“You’re hot, Morticia, own it!”  
“No,” she said a bit rougher than intended. “Sorry, no. How do you think Fes-”  
“You’re telling me you’ve never cheated on Gomez?” Candy said in disbelief, her jaw hanging open.  
Morticia looked between Candy and her glass of wine, which was lower than she remembered it being. “Of course not. Why would you even ask that?”  
“It's, I don’t know, human!” Candy’s face got serious. “Oh no, I’ve seriously misjudged here. Not to worry, I don’t think you’ll remember this.” Candy’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. She was no longer a bubble headed barfly, her true colors had seeped out. She tapped Morticia’s glass with one of her pink nails, laughing as she did so.  
Morticia pushed her glass away, slipping off the stool. “You drugged me?”  
Candy reached out and patted Morticia’s cheek. “Do you really think I would allow myself out in public dressed like you if I didn’t have an ulterior motive?”  
“You slimy bitch,” Mortica spat, stumbling on her feet.  
“You really look so much better like this,” Candy stated. “You’re not so spooky. Look at all these guys eager to put you in the back of their car.”  
“I know… I know about-” Morticia couldn’t seem to finish her sentence. She stumbled to the side, crashing into a man who instantly wrapped his arm around her.  
“Say cheese,” Candy said, holding up her phone.  
“Don’t, Candy,” Morticia pleaded with a slight slur as the man tightened his grip on her. “Gomez-”  
“Is mine. Night night, Tishy.”


	13. A Gomez Enraged

Gomez had been pacing the foyer for hours. Everyone was asleep, and Morticia was still not home. She wasn’t answering her phone, and Fester heard nothing from Candy. Gomez was seconds away from grabbing the car keys and checking every single bar in town, when the sound of a car door slamming and tires squealing snapped him to attention.  
“Tish?” he cried, rushing out the front door. “Morticia?”  
A loud groan came from by the gate, which was shaking madly with anger. Gomez rushed down the driveway, finding Morticia slumped on the ground. A jolt of fear rushed through him as he crashed to his knees beside her, his fingers searching for her pulse even though she groaned a moment ago.  
“Cara mia, what has happened to you?” he gasped as Morticia’s head lolled to the side. He went to scoop her into his arms, stopping shortly as a chain slipped out from under her dress. Dangling from the end of the silver chain was Morticia’s ruby wedding ring.  
Gomez shook his head, ignoring the stab of hurt in favor of taking care of his clearly inebriated wife. He carried her back to the house, now thankful that everyone went to sleep hours ago. Morticia had never been one to over drink, especially without Gomez present. He just couldn’t explain what happened to her and it was sending his brain into a spiral of panic and torment.  
Gomez set her down on the bed, cupping her face in his hands. “Morticia, please, talk to me. Cara mia, what happened to you?” Every terrible possibility ran through his head, filling him with paralyzing fear. He removed the wedding ring from the chain and put it back on her finger where it belonged. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to the back of her hand. “Oh, Tish…”  
“Gomez,” she whispered.  
His head shot up, eyes searching her face for any sign that she was waking up. “I’m right here, Morticia.”  
She didn’t say anything else, leaving him in soul crushing agony. He was torn between going to Fester to demand he call Candy for answers and never leaving Morticia’s side ever again. He decided that answers could wait until morning and curled around Morticia, pulling her limp body tight to his chest.  
Gomez reached up and pulled her hair gently out of what was left of her bun, knowing she probably hated it like that. She smelled like a mix of alcohol and cheap cologne, making his gut twist with jealousy. He shook his head. Morticia would never betray him. But he couldn’t explain the ring and the fact that she was just dumped at their gate. And her strange behavior before they left, things just weren’t adding up.  
Gomez pressed his face to her shoulder. “Cara mia, to live without you… only that would be torture. I beg you not to put me through that, please.”

…   
It felt like someone smashed a hatchet directly between Morticia’s eyes and like another someone had unleashed a dozen eels in her stomach. She groaned, trying to stretch out her dead limbs. As hard as she tried, Morticia couldn’t recall a single thing from the night before, which only made her feel infinitely more uneasy.  
“Tish?” She heard Gomez say, his voice ringing out like a shot in the silence.  
Morticia forced herself to sit, her entire body feeling like lead. The dimly lit room seemed far too bright as she looked around for Gomez. He was in the bed with her, but sitting at least a foot away, an unreadable look on his face.  
“Gomez?” she croaked, reaching up to rub her forehead.  
“I’m so relieved that you’re awake,” he whispered, handing her a glass of water, which she happily chugged. “I was so worried.”  
“What happened?” she asked, looking down to see that she was still in that god awful magenta dress that she hardly remembered putting on.  
“I was hoping you would tell me,” Gomez said, his voice unusually quiet. It was obvious that he was upset, Morticia just didn’t know why.  
“I can’t,” she said, clutching her head in her hands. “Gomez, I don’t remember a single thing from last night. I vaguely remember getting ready with Candy here, but everything after that is completely gone.”  
Gomez sighed and reached out for Morticia’s hand. “It was so late, you wouldn’t answer your phone. I was seconds away from going out looking for you when I heard a car on the driveway. Someone just dumped you by the gate, you were completely unconscious. And… your wedding ring was on a chain around your neck.”  
Morticia balked at his words before looking down at her hand, where her ring was once again. “Gomez… I may have no memory, but you have to trust I would never betray you.”  
Gomez nodded before pulling Morticia into a crushing hug. “Of course I believe you. It just feels good to hear you say it. I spent the entire night in agony over what could have happened. It didn’t help that you reaked of drugstore cologne.”   
“Gomez, my love, I would saw off my own arm before I would ever cheat on you,” Morticia said, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “I’m so sorry for what I put you through. I thought that maybe playing the part of Candy’s friend would either guilt her into confessing or guilt her into actually loving Fester. But it would seem…”   
“What, mi querida?”  
Morticia shook her tired head before resting it on his shoulder. “I don’t know. None of my plans have been working and I’m so exhausted.”  
“You aren’t hurt, are you?” Gomez asked, unfiltered concern lacing his words. “If I find out that even a finger was laid on you, there will be hell to pay!”  
“The only thing that hurts is my head. It feels like my brain is being split in two.”  
“Why don’t I start the shower for you?” Gomez asked, pulling away from her. “It might make you feel better. I’ll have Lurch make coffee.”  
“Yes, thank you, darling. That may be just what I need.”

…  
Gomez felt only slightly better now that Morticia was awake. Of course he believed his wife. He would believe her if she told him the moon was made of wax and giant bees lived inside of it. What bothered him is what possibly could have happened to her. Why couldn’t she remember? He didn’t believe she would have had so much to drink that she would black out in such a way. Morticia was always so composed and thoughtful, not loosey goosey.  
No, someone did something to his wife. Something dastardly. And when he found out who and what, there was going to be no reprieve for the perpetrators! They would be crawling on their knees, begging him for a mercy he would never grant! No one harms Morticia and gets away with it. No one.  
Walking into the kitchen in a funk, Gomez was shocked to find it wasn’t empty. Lurch was there, of course, but so were Fester and Candy. “It's Monday,” Gomez stated frankly. “The children left for school an hour ago.”  
“I called in a sub,” Candy said, her voice serious as she held Fester’s hands. “I thought this might be more important.”  
“Are you going to tell me what happened to my wife last night?” Gomez asked, taking a seat at the table.  
“You might want to sit down, Gomez,” Fester said solemnly.  
“I am sitting, Fester.”  
“Oh, good.”  
“Gomez, what I have to show you isn’t going to be easy,” Candy said slowly as she pulled out her phone. “And I feel terrible having to be the bearer of bad news. But, it's about Morticia…”  
Candy slid her phone over to him, which was open to a picture of Morticia in another man’s arms. Gomez felt his blood boil as he looked closely at it. Morticia was clearly intoxicated, her eyes unfocused and her body limp as this other man held her tightly in a way that looked far too familiar for a stranger. Candy swiped to the next photo, which was of Morticia and that same man, only this time his lips were on her neck.  
Gomez swallowed the lump in his dry throat, trying to keep the rage building inside of him under control. The next photo Candy swiped to was of Morticia in the back of a car, her head on one man’s shoulder while another was also kissing her neck.  
“Lurch,” Gomez choked out, his eyes glued to the phone. “Please take that pot of coffee up to Mrs. Addams.”  
Lurch groaned and set off to do just that.  
“I’m real sorry, Gomez,” Fester said gently, putting his hand on Gomez’s shoulder, which he roughly shrugged off as he burst out of the seat.  
“I don’t know what the fuck it is you’re showing me, Candy, but there is some explination for it!” he cried, slamming his fist down on the table. All his composure left the room with Lurch.  
“I was there, Gomez. Morticia was out of control-”  
“Morticia would never!”  
“Morticia did,” Candy insisted. “Glass after glass, man after man. I tried to talk her out of it. Tell her what a good man you are, but she wouldn’t hear it. That's why I took pictures. I knew you would never believe my word alone. She said she was so tired of her dull home life. She wanted one night of passion other than whatever it is you’re providing. I know it's hard to hear, but it's what she said.”  
Gomez was trembling with unconcealed rage. His face had turned a dangerous shade of red and the urge to break something was boiling over as he slammed Fester’s tea cup against the floor. “You are a liar, Candy!”  
Fester stood. “Hold on a minute, Gomez.”  
“Leave us, Fester,” Gomez hissed, his hands balling in the fabric of Fester’s collar. “I need a moment alone with your fiance.”  
“I don’t think that's such a good idea.”  
“Get out, Fester!” Gomez cried, shoving him toward the door. “Vete, imbécil gigante!”  
Fester stumbled toward the door. “Okay, okay! But I don’t like this!”  
Gomez picked up a knife and hurled it after him, the blade getting stuck up to the hilt in the door the second Fester left. He rounded on Candy the moment they were alone, backing her against the stove that was steaming slightly.  
“This has your deceitful stink all over it,” Gomez growled.  
Candy smirked, but he could see the fear in her eyes. “Oh, Mezzy, I’m sorry that this is so hard on you.” She went to put her hands on his shoulders but he smacked them away.  
“Do not touch me, Candy! Never again! I know you did something to Morticia last night, you set her up! You’re trying to drive me away from her so I come crawling to you!” Gomez shouted, his voice shaking the pots dangling above Candy’s head.  
“Look, Gomez, I know you want to think the world of your little whore wife-”  
“Don’t!” Gomez shouted before smacking a soup pot off the stove. “You are the whore, Candy, and I am going to tell Fester what you’ve been doing! No more tiptoeing around his feelings, he needs to know!”  
“Whose word are you going to take?” Candy scoffed. “The person who was cognisant the entire time or the person who can’t remember the last twelve hours? I was there the whole night, watching Morticia dance with all those strange men while they plied her with drinks, no wonder she can’t remember anything.”  
“If I was a different man I would shut you up myself!” Gomez yelled. “You drugged my wife and passed her around to all these strangers to make her look bad! I am telling Fester about you and I am telling him now!”  
Gomez stormed toward the door, right as Fester walked in, trailed by a very sheepish looking Tully. “Um, Gomez, Tully is here.”  
“I see that!” Gomez yelled before calming down. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but this is a bad time.”  
“I’ll be brief,” Tully said, setting his briefcase down on the table.  
Candy took that moment to rush out of the kitchen, pulling Fester with her. Gomez nodded and walked over to the cabinet to pour himself a drink. “Brandy, Tully?”  
“No, no, I just have a few quick papers for you to sign about some investments.” He pulled out the documents and set them down, looking at Gomez with apprehension. “That Candy, huh?”  
Gomez shot him a look. “What about her?” He scribbled his name down on the papers in front of him.  
Tully shrugged. “She seems good for Fester.”  
Gomez only grunted in response.   
“Where's the Mrs this morning?”  
“She, um, Morticia wasn’t feeling well. She’s still upstairs.” Gomez all but slammed his pen down on the table. “Are we through here?”  
“Yeah, yeah, I have what I need. I can just show myself out.”  
Gomez was in even more of a funk than he was this morning as he left the kitchen. What he really wanted was to find Fester and blow the lid off Candy’s whole thing, but they had disappeared. Probably intentional on Candy’s part.  
Or so he thought, until a vase hit him square in the back, prompting Gomez to jump around as it shattered against the floor. Fester was standing behind him with another vase ready to throw and an angry look on his face.  
“What the hell, Fester?”  
“Just because Morticia cheated on you, doesn’t mean you can have Candy!” he yelled. “How dare you?”  
“How dare I what, Fester?” Gomez yelled, stepping over the shards of glass on the floor. “You think I would throw away my precious Morticia for that cheap, tacky, fake as hell-”  
“Big talk for someone who has been forcing himself on Candy from the moment we started dating!” Fester screamed before chucking the other vase at Gomez.  
Gomez jumped out of the way just as the vase hit the wall beside his head. “What? You don’t know what you’re talking about, Fester! Candy has been coming onto me! Seducing me! She drugged Morticia last night and let strange men manhandle her so I would think she was cheating on me! Candy is a snake, Fester, a snake!”  
Fester calmly shook his head. “Tully was at the bar last night.”  
“What? No he wasn’t!”  
“That's what he just told me! He backed up everything Candy said about Morticia.”  
Gomez stared at him in disbelief. “You would believe these outsiders above your own family?”  
Fester shrugged, looking down at the floor. “The facts don’t lie.”  
Gomez closed the space between them, pointing an accusing finger at Fester. “Then you are not an Addams.”  
“Then so be it.” Fester turned and walked away, leaving Gomez alone in the hall.  
Gomez let out a ragged breath, his heart aching in his chest. How had this woman just come out of nowhere, making their whole life a mess in a matter of days? And how did Tully factor into this? Why was he backing up Candy’s lies?  
Gomez rushed upstairs, just wanting a moment alone with his wife to forget all this. What he found instead was Tully sitting on the sofa in their room with a very stiff Morticia, who had unbridled rage in her eyes. Gomez shook his head, slamming the door behind him. “I want someone to tell me what the hell is going on in my house today!”  
“Gomez,” Morticia said coldly, holding up the documents Tully had him sign moments ago. “Divorce?”  
It felt like someone punched a hole through his heart. So much so, he doubled over as the shock ran through him.“What?”  
“You signed divorce papers, Gomez,” Morticia said, a slight tremor in her otherwise even voice.   
“I did not!” he shouted, marching over to them and snatching the papers. “I would kill myself first, Morticia!”   
But sure enough, the papers Tully handed him only moments ago were just that. Gomez crumpled the papers up before tossing them in the fireplace, taking no small amount of satisfaction in watching them burn to ash.  
“I don’t understand,” Morticia whispered. “Tully, why did you have those in the first place?”  
“Because I saw you at the bar last night, Morticia,” Tully said with only a slight stammer. “Cheating on your husband.”  
“He is lying!” Gomez yelled. “Querida, can’t you see? This is all Candy’s plan! She has Tully on the hook somehow!”  
Tully looked taken aback. “Come on, Gomez. Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?”  
“Morticia, Morticia, please,” Gomez said, getting on his knees and taking her hands. “I would rather gouge my eyes out with rusty spoons than spend a day no longer married to you!”  
A single tear slid down Morticia’s cheek. “I have no memory of last night. What if what Tully says is true?”  
“It isn’t! I know you, Morticia, better than I know myself.” He reached up and brushed the tear away. “And I’m sorry for spending even a second doubting you. Morticia, Candy drugged your drink and set you up to tear us apart!”  
Morticia’s bottom lip started to quiver, but she quickly got herself under control and turned to Tully. “What is it she has over you? I’ve caught the two of you speaking on three separate occasions.”  
Tully shook his head and stood, starting to back out of the room. “I don’t know Candy outside of hello and goodbye. Look, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding but I’m glad we got everything sorted. I’ll leave you two.”  
“You are going nowhere until you explain why you lied about Morticia!” Gomez yelled before going toward one of the rapiers on the wall.  
“Darling, let him go,” Morticia sighed, an air of defeat in her voice. “It isn’t worth it.”  
Gomez looked at her in shock, but did as she said. Tully took that opportunity to bolt from the room without looking back. “Tish, you should have let me filet him!”  
Morticia stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m exhausted and sick and just so defeated, Gomez.”  
He pulled her tighter against him, running his hand down her hair. “Morticia, what Candy has done to you is inexcusable. And now she has Fester convinced that I was forcing myself on her. She is trying to destroy our lives and for what?”  
“Our money, Gomez,” Morticia said flatly. “And I’ll bet that's where Tully figures in. He has always been a leach.”  
“I know! I used to like him so much!” He pulled back, taking Morticia’s face gently in his hands. “Cara mia, I don’t know what to do. I tried telling Fester the truth.”  
“I’ll go speak to him,” Morticia said. She went to take a step away, but her legs gave out. Gomez caught her before she could hit the floor. “Or not…”   
“Whatever Candy gave you was a doozy,” Gomez said, gently setting her back down on the sofa. “I’m sure when Wednesday gets home she’ll be able to figure out what it was.”  
Morticia groaned, rubbing her hand across her eyes. “I really would prefer the children not knowing about how I spent last night.”  
Gomez smiled softly and kissed her forehead. “They were concerned when you didn’t say goodbye this morning. I only told them you were sick.”  
“Well, you weren’t lying.” She reached out to stroke his cheek as she let out a sad sigh. “We’re good people, Gomez.”  
“Objectively.”  
She laughed softly. “I mean, we don’t actively try to harm innocent people. So why, why, does everyone always insist on being so cruel to us?”  
“Thick skin, querida,” he said, kissing her hand.   
“Is something you were gifted with in abundance,” Morticia said. “I suppose it comes with being born an Addams.”  
Gomez nodded, reaching for the abandoned coffee cup sitting on the table. “Here, it looks untouched. It might clear your head.”  
“Thank you, darling.” Morticia took a long sip, and Gomez watched as her face contorted in disgust. She set the cup back down, shaking her head. “Who made that? It doesn’t taste like how Lurch usually does it.”  
Gomez’s eyes went wide with panic. “Morticia, Morticia, don’t panic!” he cried, jumping to his feet.  
“What? Why?”   
“I’m getting you a glass of water!” Gomez shouted before dashing out of the room without explanation. He just couldn’t shake the horrible feeling in his gut that seemed to have taken up permanent residence there.  
He came to a halt at the top of the stairs at the sound of Tully’s voice. “We severely underestimated here!” he heard Tully whisper. “The moron truly loves his wife! It's strange!”  
“So what do we do now?” Candy shot back. “I have put up with too much of this spooky bullshit to back out now!”  
“So we change strategies! Marry Fester, as you said you would.”  
“Absolutely not!”  
“Hear me out! You marry him, then Gomez and Morticia have a mysterious accident. Who do you think the executor of their will is? And who do you think approves all the changes made therein?”  
Gomez couldn’t believe his ears. Well, he could, but he didn’t like it one bit.  
“You don’t think they’ve left all their money to those little brats?” Candy spat, nearly making Gomez spring from his hiding place.  
“Of course they have! But they won’t be in control of any of it until they’re 18! If Gomez and Morticia die, Fester is in charge of the children and the finances! He could do whatever he wants! And since he’s wrapped around your little finger, that means you get whatever you want out of this, Candy.”  
There was a long pause. Gomez was worried the pounding of his heart was going to give him away. He had passed enraged and was now simmering with unreleased, volcanic anger. He was sure his face was bright red, and when Candy spoke up again, it was all he could do not to scream and never stop.  
“I like the way you think, Tully,” she said.  
“Which means you’re going to count me in, of course.”  
“Obviously. I’ll go suggest that Fester and I elope tonight. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”  
At the sound of their retreating footsteps, Gomez bolted back to their room, stopping quickly to get Morticia the glass of water he promised. “Tish! Tish, we have a problem, we have a serious- Morticia?”  
“Gomez!” Morticia’s weak voice came from the bathroom.  
He rushed in, dropping the glass in his hand as he saw his wife slumped beside the toilet, wiping blood from her mouth. “Cara mia!”  
“Candy was in the kitchen, wasn’t she?” Morticia asked before once again expelling a mouth full of blood into the toilet. “She poisoned me again.”  
“They’re planning on killing us! Candy and Tully!” Gomez quickly explained as he grabbed a towel for Morticia. He crashed to his knees beside her, sweeping her hair back as she vomited once again. “Candy and Fester are going to elope tonight. If we’re dead, Fester is in charge of our money.”  
“We have to do something,” Morticia said, putting her hand on Gomez’s shoulder as she tried, and failed, to stand.   
“I will take care of it, Tish. After I take you to the hospital.”  
“No, no, Gomez, I just need to lay down for a bit, but I have to be here. I can handle my poison, you know that.” She attempted a smile, but it was more of a grimace.  
“Yes, but these past few days have been proving otherwise,” Gomez gently mused as he dabbed the towel on her chin. “Such a shame, it is usually a turn on to see so much blood on your face.”  
“We will properly celebrate in such a way once this mess is over, mon sauvage,” Morticia promised, allowing Gomez to carry her out of the bathroom and to their bed.   
He took her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to it. “That we will, Cara mia. That we will. For now, I must leave you.”  
“Go, I will be fine, I promise. Have Lurch go to the school to get the children, please. I’d feel better knowing they were with someone right now.”  
“I’m on it!” Gomez yelled, rushing to the door. “One last thing.”  
“Yes?”  
“I love you.”  
Morticia smiled, but Gomez could see a sadness in her eyes. “And I love you.”


	14. Stalemate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theres a bit more swearing and violence in this chapter, just in case anyone isn't cool with that

“Lurch?” Gomez yelled, yanking on every noose he came across on the way to the kitchen. “Lurch? I need you!”  
Gomez was growing more and more concerned when there was no sign of the normally prompt butler anywhere in the house. “No, no, no, no! Lurch!”  
“He went out,” came Fester’s flat voice from the sitting room.  
Gomez back tracked and walked in, finding Fester sitting in an armchair, looking rather distressed. “Where did he go, Fester?”  
Fester shrugged, refusing to look at Gomez. “Couldn’t say.”  
“Fester, I need you to hear me out for a moment-” Gomez began to say, before he was roughly wacked on the back of the head and collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap.

…   
“Miss Smith is a coward,” Wednesday said as she flopped down beside Pugsley on the bus.  
“Why?” Pugsley asked as he tinkered with a tiny bomb.  
“We had a substitute today. She couldn’t even face me.”  
“Can I be candid, Wednesday?” Pugsley asked, abandoning his bomb.  
“Please.”  
“Miss Smith is a bitch and I really don’t want her as our aunt.”  
Wednesday glared at her brother, resisting the strong urge to flick his forehead. “We all feel that way, Pugsley. Mother told me to really give Miss Smith hell today, I think her patience is wearing thin.”  
“I can’t believe she’s been coming onto Father.” Pugsley shook his head. “Did you suspect she was capable of something like this?”  
“No. I would have respected her much more if I had.” Wednesday sighed and sunk down in the seat. “I thought it was vile when she forced me into that girl scout uniform. But this woman is evil incarnate.”   
“So what should we do?”  
“What if we told Uncle Fester how much we don’t like her?” Wednesday suggested. “He may not listen to Mother and Father, but he should listen to us!”  
“You’re right! We’re adorable!” Pugsley exclaimed.  
“Yuck, I wouldn’t use that word, but I do agree. We’ll talk to him at home.”  
Home, however, was eerily silent and crypt like. Which was not abnormal, but there was something off about it today that set Wednesday’s teeth on edge. She and Pugsley walked further in, glancing around for a sign of anything.  
“Hello?” Pugsley yelled. “Uncle Fester?”  
“Mother? Father?” Wednesday called out, her concern growing even more. “Lurch? Grandmama?”  
The squeak of a box snagged their attention. Thing popped up on the end table, moving back and forth with caution. He gestured for the children to come closer, still looking around. Once they were close enough, he sunk down in the box and started to tap out in morse code.  
Morticia upstairs. Sick. Danger. Careful of Candy.  
Wednesday and Pugsley shared a look, their eyes wide. “This is worse than we thought! Thank you, Thing.”  
Thing slowly sunk back into the box as the children rushed toward the stairs. Unlike normal, they didn’t bother to knock on their parents door as they rushed in. They found Morticia on the floor midway between the bed and the bathroom, a pool of blood near her head.  
“Mother!” Wednesday cried, throwing down her backpack and rushing over to her.  
Morticia gurgled a response, barely conscious. Wednesday gently pushed the hair away from her mother’s face and looked frantically around the room. Pugsley was one step ahead of her, holding Morticia’s coffee cup.  
“Arsenic,” they said together.  
“I didn’t realize Candy was that smart,” Wednesday scoffed. “Where’s Father?”  
“I don’t know!” Pugsley yelled. “Should we call an ambulance?”  
Wednesday frowned and lifted Morticia’s head to her lap. “No, there's something really fishy going on. Mother! Wake up!”  
“Slap her!”  
Wednesday didn’t need to be told twice. Morticia groaned and Wednesday slapped her again. Morticia cracked her eyes open slightly, still looking slightly disoriented. “Mother, can you hear us?”  
“Mommy!” Puglsey yelled, shaking her hand.  
“Please don’t call me mommy,” Morticia groaned.  
“Good, you’re conscious,” Wednesday sighed. She really didn’t want to admit how terrified she was up until now. “Candy put arsenic in your coffee.”  
“I know,” Morticia groaned. She struggled into a sitting position before pulling her children into a hug. “Your uncle is in big trouble. Where's your father?”  
“We don’t know,” Puglesy said. “We got off the bus and the house was empty.”  
“Bus? Lurch was supposed to go get you,” Morticia said, resting her tired head on top of Pugsley’s.   
“We haven’t seen Lurch. We’ve only seen Thing.”  
“Help me up, children.” Pugsley and Wednesday pulled Morticia to her feet and wrapped their arms around her waist to keep her up. “I need to find your father, and your uncle, and I need to rip Candy to shreds.”   
“But you can barely walk!” Wednesday said, clinging tightly to her mother. “Let me and Pugsley handle it!”  
“Absolutely not,” Morticia said sternly. “I want the two of you to stay right here, understood?”  
“But-”  
“Understood?” Morticia repeated, shooting them a look that said no questions were to be asked.  
“Fine,” the children reluctantly agreed.   
“Good. Now, Pugsley, I need you to get me that rapier off the wall. Wednesday, I want you to call Lurch and Grandmama until one of them picks up and tell them to come straight home from wherever they are. And I hope they are somewhere.”  
Morticia took in a deep breath, hoping she had enough strength to even make it out of the room without her children’s help. Pugsley handed her the sword, no questions asked as Wednesday rushed over to the telephone.  
“If I’m not back with your father in a half hour, I want you to call the police,” Morticia said. She hated the thought of getting the cops involved, but she wasn’t really seeing a better option at this point.  
“Narcs?” Wednesday asked, a look of disgust on her face.  
“I share your same sentiment, darling, but it's our only option.” Morticia gripped the door knob, summoning up strength that she didn’t quite have. “I love you both.”  
She was out of the room before they could respond, unsure of where she was even going. Her head was still spinning and she felt like she was constantly on the verge of puking up more blood. Morticia stumbled toward Gomez’s study, thinking that was a good place to start. It's not like Candy knew about all the secret rooms in their house, unless she had Fester helping her out.  
Morticia picked up the pace, unbridled rage helping to fuel her on. She reached the second floor study, coming to a halt at the sound of voices on the other side. At least Candy wasn’t that imaginative for her places of torture. She could never be a real Addams.   
Morticia lifted her hand to the knob and silently slipped into the room without Candy noticing her. Right as she raised a gun at her poor, defenseless, tied up husband, Morticia placed the edge of her sword against Candy’s neck, feeling a great pleasure in doing so. “Not so fast.”

…  
Gomez came to, finding himself on the floor of his study with his hands bound by rope in front of him. He lifted his pounding head, Candy’s hazy form coming into focus in front of him. He sat up, his eyes zeroing in on the gun in her hands.  
“What is the meaning of this?” he asked. “Where is Fester?”  
Candy shrugged. “I’m assuming he's upstairs booking our honeymoon.”  
“Is the gun a part of that plan?”  
“A very important part. My plan doesn’t work if you don’t die. If you’re living, what's the point of Fester and I going on a honeymoon?” Candy grinned. She clearly loved having an audience. “At first, I thought I could get to your money by stealing you from your wife. But you idiots are so in love it's disgusting! Then Tully made it so obvious! I just have to kill you both!”  
“Lay a hand on Morticia and I swear-”  
“Calm down, Mr. Addams,” Candy said, aiming the gun at his face. “Sure I’ve been poisoning her, but that's not going to kill her. What's going to kill her is seeing your brains splattered across the floor.”  
“Candy, I will give you money,” Gomez said, struggling to his feet. “As much as you want.”  
“All of it.”  
“Well not all of it. I have a family, Candy. How would you like your very own crocodile farm?” he asked in desperation.  
“No. I’ve married Fester. The chips are all falling into place. There is nothing you could offer to make me change my mind.”  
“And does Fester know your little plan?” Gomez spat. His eyes quickly darted to the door where Morticia was sneaking in. He turned his attention back to Candy before she could notice that they were no longer alone.  
“He’ll be sad finding out his brother and sister in law have died in a tragic suicide pact, sure, but he’ll recover. You have a rather macabre family, I don’t think it will take him that long to bounce back,” Candy stated simply. “Now, any last words, Gomez Addams?”  
“Not so fast,” Morticia said, placing the blade of her sword against Candy’s jugular. “Drop the gun, Candy.”  
“How about you drop your sword, Morticia,” Tully said, coming from seemingly nowhere as he placed the barrel of a gun to Morticia’s temple.   
“Where the hell did he come from?” Gomez cried.  
“I was hiding behind that portrait,” Tully said calmly, gesturing back to the portrait of Uncle Droop on the wall. “The second I heard those brats come home I figured we’d be in for trouble.”  
“Then go find them and take care of them!” Candy demanded.  
“But if I take the gun off Morticia, what's stopping her from slitting your throat?” Tully pointed out.  
“The fact that the second I feel a slight pain I’ll shoot Gomez right in the pretty face!”  
“Damn,” Gomez sighed. “You’re really nasty, Candy.”  
“Such a shame,” Morticia agreed. “You would have fit right in.”  
“Shut up!” Candy screamed.  
“What is stopping me from just running full force at Candy and knocking her to the ground?” Gomez asked.  
“I’ll shoot Morticia the second I see you move,” Tully said casually.  
“So we’re at a stalemate then?” Gomez said, glancing down at his bound hands.  
“Not really!” Candy shrieked, her voice growing shrill and unhinged. “Tully, shoot Morticia!”  
Tully cocked his gun, which made Gomez cry out and lung forward, despite the warning of what would happen if he did. There was a bang and Morticia screamed as she brought the blade of the sword down against Candy’s wrist, knocking the just fired gun from her hand.  
Gomez hit the floor, a stunned look on his face as blood started to blossom from his chest and across his shirt. He looked up at the commotion as he raised a hand to his chest. “Tish,” he managed to mutter.  
“Gomez!” she cried, swirling away from Candy.  
“Get her!” Candy yelled as she doubled over to clutch at her bleeding wrist.  
Tully, in a desperate attempt, grabbed a fistful of Morticia’s hair and yanked her back. She hit the ground with a loud thud, which resulted in her dropping her sword. She tried to crawl over to Gomez, but Tully blocked her path, pointing his gun back at her face.  
“Let me go to him!” she pleaded in desperation. From around Tully’s legs, she could see all the blood spreading out from Gomez’s body. “Please!”  
“End this already!” Candy demanded. “Do you want their money or not?”  
“Yeah, but this isn’t good for my ulcer!”  
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your ulcer!” Candy screamed, picking up her discarded gun. “Shoot her in the fucking face before I shoot you!”  
Another loud bang shook this room, only this time it wasn’t from any gun. Wednesday, Pugsley, as well as Fester dropped from the hole Pugsley just blew in the ceiling. A cloud of dust and plaster rained down, providing Morticia with enough cover to dash over to Gomez’s side.  
“Querida,” he mumbled, reaching out his blood stained hand to Morticia.  
“Mon cher,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “My darling, you will be alright.” She pressed her hand to the bullet wound, in a desperate attempt to stop the blood flow.  
He tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace of pain. “Not to worry. I will haunt you for the rest of my days, querida mia.”  
“Gomez,” Morticia whimpered before kissing his forehead. “A day alone, only that would be death.”  
“What is the meaning of this?” Fester cried once all the dust had cleared. “Candy, you shot Gomez!”  
“Isn't it obvious?” Candy asked, her eyes wild and her voice deranged. “I want their fucking money!”  
“I knew you were a terrible person,” Wednesday spat. “I should have set your entire map on fire, not just Hawaii!”  
“Oh, shut up you strange little freak!”  
“Don’t talk to my niece like that!” Fester warned, taking a step forward. “So it's true then, you never loved me. It was all a scheme.”  
“Oh, so he’s not as dumb as he looks!” Candy yelled. “No, I didn’t love you! Yet I was able to wind you around my little finger just like that!” She took a step forward and Fester stepped back. “I tried screwing you over for Gomez, but look where that got me! I shot the handsome one!”  
“Candy, maybe we should dial it back,” Tully said meekly from the corner.   
“This was all your idea, you louse!”  
“Called it,” Pugsley mumbled under his breath.  
“Now I have to kill all of you!” Candy shrieked. “I’m a teacher, I didn’t want to have to kill children! But I have no choice! You all drove me to this! I’ve put up with your strange, freaky, bullshit for too long! It's time for my comeuppance! Tully, shoot Morticia while I deal with my husband!”  
But before that could happen, Pugsley whipped out a hatchet and launched it at Tully. It sunk into his arm with a dull thunk, pinning him to the wall. At the same time, Fester moved to the side as Wednesday gave Candy a good shove, sending her crashing through the window and plummeting to the dead bushes below where Lurch and Mama were waiting with a squad car.  
“Is everyone alright?” Fester asked.  
“No!” Morticia gasped. “Gomez needs to go to the hospital, now!”  
“Thing is on it!” Wednesday said, pointing to where Thing was frantically dialing 911 on someone's cell phone.  
“Um, I might need to go too,” Tully said, looking at where the hatchet was embedded in his arm.   
“Shut up!” Pugsley yelled.  
“Yeah, can it!” Wednesday threw in.  
“Cara mia,” Gomez managed to whisper, using what strength he had to pull Morticia against him. “Do not be so woeful. We have had… such a...”   
His head fell back against the floor with a thud, which was followed by Morticia letting out an ear splitting scream of heartache. Her head slumped against his chest as she sobbed and sobbed, oblivious to everything else happening in the room around her.  
Fester shook his head as he pulled the children against him. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry!”  
“He’s not dead,” Wednesday said resolutely, refusing to believe what her eyes were telling her. “He’s not.”   
Pugsley reached over and took his sister's hand in a rare display of affection.   
“Kids, go wait for the ambulance down stairs,” Fester said, patting their backs.  
“But-”  
“Go,” he insisted, his voice unusually serious.   
Wednesday and Pugsley left, still holding hands as they went. Wednesday cast a concerned filled glance at Gomez as they passed, while Pugsley chose to just keep his eyes on the floor.   
Morticia hadn’t stopped sobbing since the second Gomez closed his eyes, filling the eerily silent room. She was almost completely soaked with his blood and refused to let go, even when the EMTs arrived.   
“Ma’am, please, you won’t help him this way.”  
“Morticia, come on, I’ll drive us and the children,” Fester attempted, placing his hand on Morticia’s back.  
“No, I want to go with him!” she insisted. She let Fester pull her away so they could lift Gomez onto a stretcher. “Please, let me go with.”  
The man sighed and shrugged. “That should be fine. Have this guy bring you a change of clothes, though.” He gestured to Morticia’s blood stained robe with a mix of intrigue and disgust.  
“This means he has a chance, right?” Fester asked.  
“It's hard to say. We need to get a move on.”


	15. A normal Family

Morticia was exhausted. She despised hospitals. While she did appreciate the amount of death and disease, she couldn’t stand the sterile white lights or all the balloons and flowers that were constantly ferried through the hallways. But most of all, Morticia couldn’t stand looking at her unresponsive husband laying in a tiny hospital bed in a hideous, paper thin hospital gown.  
She sighed, resting her head on the bed rail as she clutched at his stiff, slightly cold hand. It had been a full day since Gomez’s emergency surgery and nothing had happened. The doctors had tried to make Morticia leave, but one fiery glare from her silenced them instantly.  
“You can’t leave me, Gomez,” she whispered. “I’ll be completely lost without you.”  
The thought of facing the rest of her life without Gomez by her side was so distressing she couldn’t even comprehend it. From the moment they met, being apart was never an option. It was supposed to be her and Gomez until the end of their days, dying at the same time, their bodies rotting together for all eternity. But now, the bleakness of a life alone was penetrating her soul, making her entire body ache with despair. Of course she had the children to think about, but if she didn’t, Morticia couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t end her own life as well. She needed Gomez more than words could describe.   
Morticia’s heart leapt in her chest as Gomez’s fingers tightened around hers. Her head shot up just in time to see Gomez crack his eyes open. She held her breath, not even wanting to move until she knew for sure that she wasn’t hallucinating. But then he smiled, squeezing her hand even tighter.  
“Tish,” he whispered. “Morticia, are you really here?”  
“Gomez!” she cried, jumping up and looping her arms around his neck. “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to hear your voice.”  
“Querida mia, my love.” He gently placed his hands on her back in as tight of an embrace as he could muster. “What happened?”  
“Candy shot you,” Morticia said as she gently trailed her hands down his face. “Wednesday pushed her out the window, and now she’s in jail for attempted murder.”  
Gomez nodded. “Good. And Tully?”  
“Took off the moment they got the hatchet out of his arm. No one has seen him, though he was less of a concern in the grand scheme of things.”  
Gomez reached up to cup Morticia’s cheek. “You look as though you haven’t slept. It suits you.”  
She laughed slightly. “I haven’t. How could I?”  
“I’ll never leave you, Tish,” Gomez said, bringing Morticia’s hand up to his lips. “That is a promise.”   
“You better not,” she warned. “I can’t braid Wednesday's hair nearly as well as you.”  
Gomez laughed, which quickly turned into a groan of pain as he clutched at his chest. “Do not make me laugh, querida.”  
“I’m sorry, my darling.” Morticia frowned, placing her hand over Gomez’s. “Hopefully, once you come home, we’ll be back to our normal, average lives.”  
“Yeah, no more playing matchmaker.”  
Morticia sighed. “This whole thing really was my fault, wasn’t it?”  
“Absolutely not, Morticia,” Gomez stated. “This was all Candy and her greed.”  
There was a knock on the door and Fester sheepishly stuck his head in. “Am I allowed in?”  
“Of course, Fester,” Gomez said, trying to sit up.  
Morticia moved off the bed as Fester walked over. He was wringing his hands, his eyes firmly on the floor instead of looking at Gomez or Morticia. They waited patiently for him to say something, which took a really long time to finally happen.  
“I’m, I’m glad you’re awake, Gomez.”  
“Yeah, me too.”  
There was another very long and very awkward pause as Fester shuffled his feet. “Elephant in the room,” Fester sighed.  
“Wouldn’t that be something…”  
“I betrayed you both. I betrayed the family.” He finally lifted his head to look at them. “And I’m really sorry. I’ll spend forever trying to make it up to the two of you.”  
Morticia and Gomez shared a look as they reached for each other’s hands. “Fester,” Gomez began, his voice somewhat stern. “You will always have our forgiveness.”  
Fester let out a relieved sigh. “Boy, I really am glad to hear that.”  
“Bring it in, old man!” Gomez said happily, holding out his arms for a group hug, which he instantly regretted the moment Fester nearly threw himself on top of him. “Maybe not so tight!”  
“Sorry, I’m just so excited that things are going to be back to normal again!”  
“Aren’t we all,” Morticia said with a sigh. “We’ll be one big, normal, unhappy family again.”


	16. Epilogue

A week later, Gomez was home and most things were completely back to normal. The family was gathered in the living room, waiting for the children to come home from school. Fester was playing a game of war with Thing, Lurch was sitting at the harpsichord, playing a relaxing tune, Mama was up in the attic. Morticia was seated next to Gomez on the love seat, knitting away as he read the newspaper.  
“What are you working on, darling?” Gomez asked around his cigar.  
Morticia shrugged, a tiny smirk on her lips. “A surprise.”  
“Oh, I love surprises!” He folded down his paper and looked at Morticia with intrigue. “Do I get a hint?”  
“Later, darling, later,” she said with a sultry wink.  
Gomez was about to protest when the sound of the front door opening alerted them to the children’s presence. “Mother, Father, guess what!” Wednesday and Pugsley yelled as they tore into the room. “Guess what, guess what!”  
“What is it, darlings?” Morticia asked, making room for them on the sofa.  
“They finally got a new teacher for our class and she’s great!” Wednesday said happily. “She’s big, and bald, and wears a jacket that smells like beets.”  
Fester shot his head up. “Big, bald, and beets?”  
Morticia and Gomez’s eyes went wide. They looked at each other with fear. “No,” Gomez gasped.  
“Not again.”  
Fester grinned. “Maybe I should drive you both to school tomorrow. I think I need to meet this broad.”  
“No!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who made it to the end! I hope you all enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> chapter one of many, I promise!


End file.
